Don't Think, Just Feel
by ArmidaLore01
Summary: BEING REWRITTEN, FIRST CHAPTER UP. Statistically, Reid knew that engaging in a physical relationship with anyone, let alone a colleague and a friend, was never a good idea, but even he never knew it would turn out like this. Morgan/Reid, will include most of the actual Criminal Minds series.
1. Extreme Aggressor

A/N: So this entire chapter story will be me kinda rewriting almost the entire_ Criminal Minds_ series, but with Morgan/Reid slash thrown in. Reid and Morgan moments will be prominently highlighted and tweaked to fit the story, and the central episodes surrounding the two will definitely be focused on. I'll try to include as much of the original pain points of the story as possible, but the main focus will be on these two. Just a warning, it will be a slow build-up… at least relationship-wise. Apologies ahead of time if the characters appear to be OOC, this is my first Criminal Minds fic. As mentioned before, this will be a Morgan/Reid SLASH story, so if slash isn't your fancy, consider this your warning and turn back now. For the rest, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the plot or the characters of Criminal Minds.

* * *

The wisps of steam flowed past the brim of the black coffee mug, the heat of the liquid lightly burning Reid's eyes as he raised the cup to drink. He blinked and sighed as he felt the caffeine enter his system, leaning against the counter. Reid took another small sip of coffee, taking the time to appreciate this small moment of solitude before his phone chimed in his pocket. He fished it out and glanced at the caller ID. Recognition lit up in his eyes and he pursed his lips together, pressing the answer button and lifting the device to his ear.

"Hey Morgan," he greeted.

"Hey kid," his colleague replied. Reid cringed at the use of the word 'kid.' "Just got off the phone with Hotch. Got a case in Seattle, info should be faxed over."

No sooner did Morgan say that did the whirring of Reid's fax machine in his living room come to life, slowly printing out the case report before his eyes. "He wants you to take that to Gideon."

Reid frowned. "Gideon?"

"Yeah." Morgan's voice had an uncertain edge to it now, and it was clear that he was not at all happy with the knowledge that Gideon was going to be joining them. "Director wants him to come in. God knows why, but she does."

"He could be an asset to this case," Reid counter, naturally defensive of his mentor. It was no secret what had happened to Gideon that caused him to resign; one agent, let alone six, lost because of someone's actions was bound to take a harsh toll.

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Morgan replied, "Maybe. We'll see. I'll see you both soon." The echoing click of Morgan hanging up caused Reid's frown to deepen, an unknown weight settling deep in his chest, and he pressed the 'end call' button and replaced the mobile back into his pocket.

Taking another tentative sip of his coffee, he walked over to his fax machine and gathered the papers that were piled there. Briefly scanning the documents, he sighed again, and walked back to his kitchen. He'd need a large thermos today.

xXx

"I can't because I am ashamed of something." Reid could hear Gideon's resonating voice as he approached the door of the lecture hall. Quietly as he could, he opened the door and revealed Jason Gideon in front of his class, several students glancing up from their note-taking to gawk at the newcomer. Gideon looked away from his class and focused on Reid, and Reid responded in kind by tapping the folder twice and crossing his hands over it.

Gideon nodded his acknowledgment, and glanced back at his audience. "Excuse me," he said, following Reid out.

In the hallway, Reid immediately began to explain the content of the file. "Unsub in Seattle, Washington. They're calling him the Seattle Strangler. Four victims in four months. He keeps them alive for seven days. The handle serves as a crank." He then displayed the crime scene photo of the victim to Gideon.

"Allowing him to control the rate of suffocation," Gideon concluded.

"To prolong it?" Reid questioned, looking at his superior in confusion.

"To enjoy it," Gideon corrected. "Seattle's hit a wall?"

Reid nodded his head, his walking growing gradually slower until they came to a complete stop, having arrived at their destination. "Physical evidence is non-existent; there are no tangible leads."

"And another girl is missing," Gideon said, grabbing the file and crime scene photo from Reid's hands and walking into Gideon's empty office, Reid following close behind.

xXx

"I've looked the case file over," Gideon said, keeping his eyes trained on the documents in his hands. "I'll get some thoughts to you ASAP."

Reid opened his mouth to cut in and correct Gideon, to inform him that the BAU director actually wanted Gideon back in the field, back to actively participating in the handling of the case, but was interrupted by the arrival of his unit chief and Morgan.

"You're gonna be with us in Seattle ASAP," Hotch said, briskly walking into the office, Morgan close behind. Morgan cast a brief look over to where Reid was standing near the entrance, and Reid quickly focused his eyes back to Gideon, who was now staring at Hotch with raised brows, his forehead pinching as he expressed his surprise and disbelief. He took off his spectacles and approached Morgan, who was holding out a photo of a redhead woman smiling brightly at the camera.

"22-year-old Heather Woodland," Morgan said in reference to the woman.

"Before she left for lunch, she downloaded an email with a time-delayed virus attached," Hotch explained. "The killer's virus wiped her hard drive and left this one the screen." He held out another photograph, which Gideon slowly took, staring at it carefully.

Reid was observing this interaction closely, but still could not help but feel a jolt of _something _deep in the pit in his chest when Morgan suddenly turned to look at him. Chewing the inside of his cheek, Reid wrapped his arms around his torso, trying and failing to avoid Morgan's gaze. Then Morgan smirked, and then actually _winked at him_. Reid forced himself to not blush not a pitiful schoolgirl, shifting his arms around himself.

Fortunately, Morgan's attention was diverted once again to Gideon when the man spoke, "For God's sake, catch me before I kill more, I cannot control myself." Reid watched as Gideon turned and compared the photo in his hand to the framed one on the wall. It was of a previous case of William Heirens, known as the Lipstick Killer in 1945, with the exact same message scrawled with lipstick on the wall of the Heirens' victims.

"He never keeps them more than seven days," Hotch continued. "Which means we have fewer than 36 hours to find her."

"They want you back in the saddle," Morgan said. "You ready?"

"Looks like medical leave's over, boss," Reid said, firmly avoiding Morgan's once again wandering eyes.

"You sure they want me?" Gideon asked.

Hotch gave the smallest of nods and replied, "The order came from the director."

Gideon paused for a moment, turning to face the old case of the Lipstick Killer once more. "... Then we better get started."

xXx

Reid wasted no time in exiting the vehicle once they arrived at the FBI issued jet. Adjusting the grip he had on the bag and briefcase he was holding and hoisting his satchel further up his shoulder, he took bustling steps toward the entrance of the jet, Gideon a little further ahead. He should have known better than to think he could outrun a former football player though, for Morgan quickly caught up to him, nudging his shoulder teasingly as he passed him by, a smirk evident on his face. A faint blush tinting his cheeks, Reid couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips as Morgan initiated the contact, no matter how tiny and platonic.

Over the roaring of the jet's engines, Reid could faintly hear the sound of a woman's voice, a senior agent, conversing with Hotch. Or rather, throwing orders and instructions at him. Reid climbed the steps leading into the jet slowly, stopping at the doorway to wait patiently for his colleague.

Once they were all situated inside the jet and on the way to Seattle, Hotch spoke. "Alright, so what do we know?"

"His first victim was 26-year-old Melissa Kirsch," Reid said, opening the file that he had already memorized by heart. "Stab wounds, strangulation-"

"Wait, wait, back up, back up," Morgan cut in, leaning over the seat that Hotch was occupying. "He stabbed her, and then strangled her to finish her off?"

"Other way around," Gideon said. "Why do you think he started using the belt with the second murder?"

"Strangulation with your bare hands is not as easy as one would believe," Reid answered, shaking his head. "He tried, probably found that it took too long-"

"So he stabbed her instead," Morgan said, completely Reid's thought.

"And realized it would be hours cleaning up the blood," Hotch added.

"Next time, our boy's got a method: the belt," Morgan concluded.

Gideon nodded, convinced. "He's learning, perfecting his scenario. Becoming a better killer."

Once the briefing was concluded, Reid closed the file and placed it back into his satchel, grabbing his coat and heading to the back of the jet. He hadn't had a lot of rest the night before, and hoped for at least a few hours worth of sleep before they arrived in Seattle. He claimed the couch, listening to Hotch and Gideon as they sat down to take a nap themselves as he slowly lowered himself into a laying position, bringing his feet up and settling under the meek warmth that the jacket provided.

It was silent, and before long Reid could hear the light snores coming from Gideon near the front of the jet. He shivered slightly at the remnants of cold still striking his feet and torso, and he curled even further in on himself.

"I have a better way of warming you up if you're interested."

Reid jumped violently, a yelp right at the tip of his tongue, but a rough hand clamped down on his mouth and suddenly he was staring into the amused, dark eyes of Derek Morgan. Reid scowled and tore his face away from Morgan's hand, taking a deep breath.

"You scared me," Reid said, hating the whiny pitch that tinged his statement. Morgan seemed to pay no mind as he chuckled. "And as for your offer, in case you didn't remember, which would be impossible since we literally finished a briefing just minutes ago, we're on the _jet _with _two supervisors_ on our way to a _case_."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Relax, pretty boy." Reid blushed at the pet name, causing Morgan's eyes to sparkle in humor. "Just messing with you. But you really do need something better to keep you warm other than that rag of a jacket you have."

Reid frowned in protest. "I'll be fine."

Morgan was quiet for a moment, biting the inside of his bottom lip in contemplation before shrugging. "Alright. Wake you up when it's time to land. And maybe if all goes well…" His voice trailed off to a low murmur as he leaned in, Reid's eyes widening with every millimeter he approached. He was so close to his face, and Reid's eyes kept darting down to Morgan's mouth, his lips. "... Maybe you'll take me up on that offer later on."

And then he stood from his crouched position, sitting in one of the chairs by the window opposite the aisle, and Reid was left with a flushed face and a racing heartbeat.

xXx

With time running out, they had narrowed the case down to this: Richard Slessman, the accomplice they had in their custody, had been incarcerated in prison for a short time, and while he was there had been befriended by one Timothy Vogel, a prison guard that protected Slessman and made him believe that he was in his debt for the times he saved Slessman from being targeted from the more aggressive prisoners. Slessman was definitely smart, using a password crack-resistant program to limit the amount of tries they had to get into his laptop before the hard drive was wiped clean; not even Garcia could offer much assistance.

Gideon and Elle were on Vogel's tail, and Hotch was interrogating Slessman, leaving Morgan and Reid to scour Slessman's house for an answer.

"Come on, I need a password." Reid could hear Morgan's mumbling as he approached the attic of the house, twirling a paperclip in his fingers. "What could I possibly be looking for?" Reid looked up in time to see Morgan fall back into a chair in front of the laptop with a sigh, rubbing at his temple. Frowning at his friend's distress, Reid walked around the table where the laptop was placed.

"I've been thinking about the CDs," Reid said, crouching down to be more level with the computer.

"Oh come on, Reid, we tried the CDs," Morgan said, exasperated. "We searched, sifted, and sorted through every one of this guy's head-banging heavy metal collection. We gotta find something or this girl is dead."

Reid furrowed his brows together as he took the paperclip, searching the side of the computer. "Think we may have missed the obvious," he muttered, and gently pressed the eject button to insert disks in the laptop, ignoring Morgan's question of "What are you doing?" With a click, the slide popped out, revealing a Metallica CD inside.

Morgan sat up with a start, and Reid turned to cast Morgan a surprised look as the other man grabbed at the CD. "Reid, what made you think of this?" Morgan asked, awe clear in his expression.

"It was the only empty case," Reid said, holding up the vacant CD case. Morgan reached out and took it from Reid, holding them up to verify that they were a matching album. Reid rubbed at his jaw as he read the song listings on the back of the case.

"Alright, I'm an insomniac who listens to Metallica to go to sleep at night," Morgan said. "What song could possibly speak to me?"

He lowered the case, and Reid looked up sharply as he realized the answer. "_Enter Sandman_."

Morgan stared at him for a moment, then broke it with a baffled chuckle. "Reid, have I ever told you that you were a genius?" he said, excitement evident in his voice as he pulled the laptop to him to type in the password. Reid glanced down, hiding a pleased smile.

xXx

The case was over, Heather was saved, and Gideon proved himself out in the field. All in all, Reid was rather pleased by how this case turned out. God knows this win was desperately needed.

Hotch had arranged for them to spend the night at a nearby inn before they had to take off in the morning to return to Quantico. Morgan, Gideon, and Reid were waiting all for him to get their room keys, conversing and laughing among themselves in the hotel lobby. They quieted down as Hotch approached them.

"We'll have to double up for the night," Hotch said, passing a key over to Reid. "Me and Gideon, and Morgan and Reid. Get some sleep. We leave on the jet tomorrow at 9 AM, so be back down here by 8:30." And with that, he turned and headed toward his respective room, Gideon following, leaving Morgan and Reid alone in the lobby.

Morgan turned and smiled wolfishly at Reid, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "So about that offer…"

Reid nervously swallowed, feeling his heart skip in his chest.

xXx

It was small, but the moan that escaped Reid felt like it echoed in the small hotel room, even as it was muffled by Morgan's firm hand.

"You like that, huh?" Morgan purred softly, blowing warm air into Reid's reddening ear before lightly sucking on the lobe. A muffled whimper escaped Reid's throat. "Shhhh." Reid's eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned lowly, bucking his hips to match the erratic thrusts of the man above him. Morgan grunted as he pushed himself in deeper inside Reid. The younger man almost couldn't comprehend the intense pleasure he was receiving, feeling his orgasm creeping up on him as Morgan continued moving inside of him, striking his prostate every time and making Reid see stars and flashes of white.

Morgan lowered his mouth to Reid's chest, nipping and licking one of the rosy nipples, now red with Morgan's ministrations. Reid panted heavily into Morgan's cupped hand, feeling the hot air around his mouth and his jaw growing slack as Morgan continued to rock into him. Reid had his pale legs wrapped securely around Morgan's waist, unconsciously pressing down on Morgan's lower back in his attempts to increase the strength of Morgan's movements. "Oh God, Reid," Morgan gasped.

"Morgan," Reid huffed into Morgan's hand, broken by a hitch in his throat as he threw his head back and finally came, spurting thick white ropes of hot liquid on both of their stomachs, chest heaving with unsteady breaths. After a few more frantic thrusts, Morgan followed Reid over the edge with a soft moan, and Reid couldn't help the groan that he released as Morgan's seed filled him, the heat of it traveling deep inside of him. After a moment, Morgan carefully slid out, removing his hand from Reid's mouth. Reid observed Morgan's movements with hooded eyes, watching as Morgan collapsed on his back beside him, arms splayed out above his head.

"I really needed that," Morgan panted, eyes closed in contentment.

There was a small pause where the only sounds in the room was Morgan's calming breaths and Reid's own throbbing heart, and then Reid quietly whispered,"Yeah."

He felt heavy all of a sudden, completely weighed down by an unfamiliar feeling, confusing him. It was heavier than any feeling of sleep deprivation he'd ever encountered, but that had to be it, right? It didn't help matters that Morgan just drew out a mind-blowing orgasm out of him as well. The heaviness almost forced him back onto the sheets as he sat up with the intention of returning to his own bed now that the night's tryst was over with.

"Where are you going?"

Reid blinked, then turned to face Morgan over his left shoulder. The other man was lying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, staring at Reid in inquiry. Reid's gaze flickered down to the blankets by his legs, absentmindedly fiddling with the edge of the fabric. "My bed," he answered, suddenly flustered, standing and quickly moving over to climb underneath the his covers; he may be having sex with Morgan, but that didn't mean there was no discomfort from displaying his bare body to anyone. "I-I'm sure that you don't want me sleeping next to you."

There was no answer from Morgan, and Reid made himself comfortable under his covers, his back to Morgan, trying desperately to ignore the heaviness that hadn't gone away yet, threatening to drag him down even as he lay on the mattress.

And then suddenly, Reid heard a rustling sound from where Morgan was, and before he could turn to see what was happening, there was Morgan, throwing back Reid's covers and sliding in next to him, startling the genius completely. "M-Morgan?!" he almost squawked in his surprise. He was answered with a finger to his lips and a kiss to his temple, and then Morgan placed a strong arm around Reid's thin form, drawing him close to his warm chest. Reid's eyes were wide with confusion, and he opened his mouth to try to ask again, and was once again met with a finger to his lips.

"Shhhh," Morgan whispered, shifting into a more comfortable position, replacing the arm around Reid's torso. "The sheets are soiled over there and clean here. Go to sleep, pretty boy."

Though thoroughly bemused and bewildered, Reid nodded hesitantly, placing his head on Morgan's shoulder as he made himself comfortable. It was so warm here, wrapped up Morgan's embrace, heat radiating from his slicked skin, and Reid couldn't help but cuddle even further into Morgan's arms, nuzzling the crook of Morgan's neck as he slowly gave into sleep. He heard Morgan sigh, and before sleep claimed him, Reid noticed that the heaviness was gone, replaced with a light, almost floating feeling. And, a ghost of a smile etched on his lips, he fell into an easy sleep.

* * *

So anyone think that Reid's falling for Morgan and just hasn't realized it yet? Poor boy. Well, this was Extreme Aggressor, so the next chapter will be cased off the second episode entitled Compulsion. Please let me know what you think in the reviews, I welcome feedback and constructive criticism!


	2. Compulsion

A/N: It's amazing how much fanfiction can be written when one should be studying for an anatomy practical coming up. Whoops. Well, here's another chapter for you guys! Please leave your reviews and share what you think, or if you have any ideas of what could happen in this series please feel free to share! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the plot of Criminal Minds.

* * *

Spencer Reid was amazed at just how impossible it was to resist Derek Morgan.

He knew that his interest in Morgan had stemmed from their first encounter together, when Gideon had introduced him to Hotch and Morgan as "_Doctor_ Spencer Reid," and Morgan had smiled at him. His muscular, broad build indicated an athlete, most likely a former football player. At first, Reid was apprehensive of this information, but Morgan had seemed to have taken a liking to him straightaway. He was so genuine and so open and so lacking in the judgmental and brass behavior that football players normally were stereotyped as that Reid couldn't help but like him in return, despite his wariness of such athletes.

And he knew from that moment on that he was screwed.

From the moment he understood what it meant, which didn't really take too long at all, he had known that he was gay. He never outwardly came out, though; it was bad enough being the 12-year-old valedictorian in his senior class, with a thin and lanky form, being horrible at sports, and suffering from social anxiety. He had been terrorized, bullied, beaten, teased, and then to top it all off, he realized he was gay. If that piece of information had come out in high school, with a homophobic football team already out to get him?

Thanks, he'd prefer living.

He never acted on it, and he never told anyone, until he accidentally let it slip to Morgan one night. The older man had taken it upon himself to take Reid out to a bar one night after his first case, which consisted of several teen girls being killed off by one common ex-boyfriend or ex-friend with abandonment issues. Another girl had been kidnapped, but they had uncovered the hiding place of the killer and managed to apprehend him before the girl was harmed. Morgan had bought Reid a drink, encouraging him to let loose and celebrate the win they achieved.

And he did drink, one drink leading to more, but refused to allow himself to get shit-faced drunk like Morgan was attempting for him to do. All he allowed for was to get a little tipsy. But apparently, tipsy was enough.

Morgan had been trying to be his "wingman," whatever that was, pointing at random girls at the bar, on the dance floor, walking around, that he was trying to set Reid up with. "How about that girl?" Morgan pointed once more to a brunette in a tight teal dress, who was clutching a shot glass in her hand and was conversing with another girl in an equally tight pink dress. Reid frowned as they downed their shots and afterwards started laughing in a horrible, high-pitched shriek.

"No." Reid said flatly, feeling the effects of the alcohol muddling his brain.

"Ah come on, Reid-"

Maybe it was Morgan's annoying persistence, maybe he was tired of hiding it for so long, or maybe it was the fact that Morgan's scent was nearly as intoxicating as the alcohol that was messing with his judgment, but he finally blurted it out.

"I'm gay, dude."

Morgan stared at him, brows raised in surprise. Reid groaned and laid his forehead on his arm that was rested on the table they were sitting at, fully aware that he had revealed the one thing that he never wanted to reveal, especially to a former football player, but was barely able to feel the horror at his revelation. Instead, he just felt really annoyed that it happened. "That was supposed to be a secret."

"Wow... I actually was not expecting that," Morgan said. Reid glanced back up, fighting back the drunken dizziness in his brain as he observed Morgan's reaction. Morgan didn't give off the response he had previously believed anyone in his place would give off. There was no anger, no disgust, no repulsion. Just surprise and open acceptance.

"You're… You're okay with that? With the fact that I'm..." Reid asked, eyes wide, completely and utterly astonished.

"Yeah," Morgan replied easily, smiling a kind smile as he shrugged one shoulder. "You're gay, and that's fine." Reid must have looked so bewildered, so baffled that someone actually accepted who he was without question, or maybe he looked lost and unconvinced, for Morgan leaned in closely and laid a gentle hand on Reid's shoulder.

"Listen…" Morgan's voice dropped down to a low mutter, and Reid had to lean in even closer than they already were to hear him above the chattering and music of the bar. "I… I never told anyone this, but seeing as you outed yourself unwilling, I feel like it's only fair that you know. You aren't the only one that swings for the other team, kid."

Reid frowned at the statement, unable to comprehend it. "_What_?" he questioned, his confusion evident in his slightly slurred voice.

Morgan rolled his eyes and sighed, removing his hand from Reid's shoulder. Reid took a second to mourn the loss of the contact before Morgan spoke again, "I'm bi, Reid."

It took a moment for Morgan's confession to register in his brain, but once it did, Reid thought his eyes were going to pop out of his sockets. "_Really_?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Morgan said, a slight grin on his face as he rubbed the back of his head almost sheepishly. "I've known since college, I suppose." Then his grin faltered into something more serious, and he pointedly held Reid's eye contact. "Just so you know that you ain't alone here, kid. There isn't anything wrong with being something other than heterosexual."

It could not have been this easy, should not have ended this well. There was absolutely no way Morgan had accepted Reid's sexuality as candidly as he did, but he _had_. All his life he had been ignored, pushed aside, treated as a freak, his own _father _had even abandoned him, and the first person that he outed himself to, quite possibly the first real friend that Reid has ever had, had accepted him without question. He had actually been _accepted_. With a shaky sigh and tears stinging his eyes, from both nerves and glee, Reid nodded, lowering his gaze away from Morgan's, and murmured, "Thank you."

xXx

The turning point had been a particularly grueling case. In one week, four children each taken from their homes in southern Iowa. They had profiled and apprehended the killer by the end of the week, and were able to get the burial site of the children. When they arrived to the given location, however, they were in the woods, staring at the mutilated remains of all of the children, with some parts scavenged by wild animals, the once soft flesh torn brutally and red with blood. Blood too young and too pure to have been spilled.

Reid had taken it especially hard, isolating himself immediately as they boarded the jet that evening, away from the concerned eyes of Hotch, Gideon and Morgan. He had brought his knees up to his chest and stared mindlessly out of the window, damning his eidetic memory to hell as every detail of that case, every second as he desperately tried to figure out_ what it was that he did wrong_, the images of the children's ripped-apart bodies floating in his mind all the while.

When they had arrived back at Quantico, Reid still refused to say anything, attempting to exit the jet and quietly slip away to catch a train at the subway so that he could head home, collapse on his bed, get under the covers, and never reveal his face again. His name was being called, but he could barely hear it over the four mothers' heart-wrenching wails that still echoed in his mind.

"Reid!" A hand landed on his shoulder, hard, and Reid had quickly reacted, whirling around and shoving the offended contact away from him with a hitched gasp. He hadn't even realized how close he was to breaking. He had watched as Morgan stared at him worriedly. "Reid… listen, I understand. Believe me, I do. And the best thing right now isn't to go home and be alone tonight."

"I'm not up for visiting any bars tonight, Morgan," Reid replied, flinching at his coarse and cracked voice. He cleared his throat hastily. "But thanks anyway."

"That's not what I meant, Reid," Morgan said, carefully placing his hand back on Reid's shoulder to stop him from turning away. "Let me give you a ride home."

Reid had been too tired, too drained from the day's events to argue very much, and he accepted Morgan's offer. The ride over to his apartment was a quiet one. Morgan had kept his eyes mainly on the road, every so often casting quick glances to where Reid was sitting in the passenger seat. Reid had seen this happen through his peripheral vision, but had kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, only speaking to give out instructions to his place. And if his voice had cracked unexpectedly at certain words, or if he noticed Morgan casting another look to see tears starting to trail down his cheeks, Morgan didn't comment. Reid had been grateful.

Morgan had pulled up to his apartment and cut the engine. Reid had looked at him with bloodshot, questioning eyes. "I told you already, the best thing for you tonight is to not be alone."

Again, Reid didn't question or protest, and just simply led Morgan into his apartment, vaguely remembering feeling a sense of intrusion and embarrassment for his books scattered all around the apartment, from the floor of the living room to the counter in the kitchen. He remembers apologizing for the mess, and collapsing on his couch, tired beyond belief.

Morgan had sat next to him silently, and then he had held him as Reid suddenly broke, sobbing out the emotions that he struggled to hold back the entire day. He had clutched at Morgan's jacket, cried into his shoulder, and Morgan had just held him, a hand buried in Reid's hair, whispering a mantra of "I know, I know," into Reid's ear. He never said "it's okay," and Reid was thankful because it wasn't, it wasn't okay, and it was never going to be okay, not for him, not for those children, not for those mothers and fathers-

And then his mouth was on Morgan's and he was lost.

The following morning, Reid had woken up feeling better than he had felt in ages, albeit a little more sore than he remembered being. He had sat up and rubbed at his weary eyes, sighing sleepily.

"We need to talk." Morgan had been sitting on the edge of the bed, clad in his sweatpants from his go-bag, staring at Reid blankly. Reid had bit his lip and nodded, hastily attempting to fix the sheets that were pooled around his waist.

After a large amount of talking, made possible by the fact that Hotch had urged them to take today off, they had agreed to a mutual consensus: this would be purely for sex, for a release and a chance to go home together and forget about the hard reality of their jobs, especially for cases such as this one. Reid had agreed eagerly, so sure that, despite the statistics that were forming in his mind that were all but screaming at him that this was a _bad _idea, he could live with this purely physical relationship with Morgan.

Now… He wasn't so sure.

xXx

"Check," Gideon said as he moved his knight to the space in front of Reid's king. "Checkmate in three moves." He walked away without another word, leaving behind a completely perplexed Reid.

"You know, you'll beat him when you start learning," Morgan said from his workstation across the aisle from Reid, tossing his folded newspaper onto his desk.

"Learning what?" Reid said, frowning.

"To think outside the box," Morgan answered, turning away from Reid and leaning toward his computer, continuing his paperwork as Reid scratched his head and glanced down at the chessboard. He tried to do what Gideon had been telling him to do since the beginning, and now Morgan too. Think outside the box. He stared at the board, imagining where each piece would land and how Gideon would have achieved his checkmate.

His thought were interrupted by Elle entering the bullpen. "Question for you," she said as she descended down the stairs.

"Shoot," Morgan answered.

"The Footpath Killer," Elle began, approaching them. "Why did he stutter?"

"Come on, Elle," Morgan said, leaning back in his chair. "We've all asked him and he won't say. He wants us to figure it out on our own."

"Okay," Elle smiled, resting against the empty workstation across from Reid. "I'm up for a challenge."

"Good, because these go to you," said a familiar voice, and a blonde woman arrived at Reid's workstation, placing down a large stack of files and paperwork with a heavy thud. She straightened herself back up and smiled. "Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, JJ if you'd like," she introduced, offering a hand to Elle.

"Elle," Elle replied with a small smile, shaking JJ's hand.

"Greenaway," JJ said, recognition evident in her expression. "Highest number of solved cases in Seattle three years running, specialty in sex offender cases."

Elle glanced at Reid, who in turn offered her an amused twitch of his lips. She turned back to JJ, impressed. "Not bad," she praised.

"Well, I'm the unit liaison," JJ said, already turning away to climb back up the stairs leading out of the bullpen. "My specialty is untangling bureaucratic knots. You'll probably be talking to me a lot. My door's always open, mostly because I'm never in my office, so just call me on my cell, okay? We'll talk." She was already on the upper level, barely giving Elle time to reply.

"Ooookay," she mouthed, and Reid stifled a laugh behind his hand, vaguely noting that Morgan had smirked at JJ's antics before turning to him. It looked like he was going to open his mouth to say something, but interrupted by Hotch.

"BAU team, can you meet me in the conference room, please? I need to show you something," their superior said as he walked around the level surrounding the bullpen towards their usual conference room.

Once they were all seated and gathered around the round table, Hotch began the briefing. "This is from the Phoenix office," he said, gesturing toward the video that was on display on the projector. "Bradshaw College in Tempe, six fires in seven months."

"Who recorded it?" Gideon questioned.

"A student with a digital camcorder," JJ responded. "He was watching a fire in the building across from their dorm. The other person you'll see is his roommate, 20-year-old Matthew Rowland." She picked up the remote and pressed play.

The video was steady at first, filming a blazing window in the darkness of the night. The two boys in the video, the video recorder and his roommate, were exclaiming excitedly at the prospect of having a fire right across the quad from their dorm. Matthew suddenly popped into frame.

"Is that the kid?" Gideon said.

"Yeah, that's him," Hotch affirmed.

Reid adjusted himself to watch the video at a better angle from where he was twisted uncomfortably in his chair, frowning at the video's next events. Matthew had moved toward the door to their room, having noticed something strange coming through to their room from the bottom of their door. There was the sound of a knob twisting, like someone was trying to get inside the room. The boy recorded suddenly sounded apprehensive, warning his roommate away from the door, and then Matthew was ablaze, lighting up rapidly, flames spreading upwards like an explosion. Matthew screeched and flailed as the flames slowly consumed him, the video going shaky as the roommate dropped the camera on the floor. Matthew collapsed in a whirl of limbs and roaring fire and shrieks of agony, and his roommate was there, desperately trying to put out the fire.

And that's where the video stopped.

xXx

_Think outside the box… Don't focus on only the first move…_

Reid grimaced as he arranged the white and black chess pieces to go to their respective spots. Gideon had been telling Reid that since the beginning, every single time they played a game of chess, every single time when Gideon left Reid completely perplexed as to how he managed to beat him when he was_ so sure _he was winning. He thought at first that it just related to the game of chess itself; however, lately it seemed as though Gideon was attempting to make that Reid's motto, a lesson to be applied not only in chess, but in everything else. He sighed as he twirled the sleek black queen before placing it down.

"Hey Reid, you got a statistic on arsonists?" Morgan called from where he was stationed at his laptop, checking the time stamps between each of the fires set on campus.

"82% are white males between 17 and 27," Reid answered, not glancing up from the chessboard, now arranging the pawns. "Female arsonists are far less likely, their motive typically being revenge."

"Sounds like our boy's a student," Morgan said.

"Don't be so sure," Gideon called from where he sat, and Reid wrenched his eyes away from the board to listen. "You rely too much on precedent, you never allow for the unexpected." At this, his eyes flickered toward Reid, pointedly staring at him with a meaningful gleam over his spectacles. Reid blinked and looked back down at the now completed board, the tiniest thread of understanding awakening in his mind.

xXx

The answer had to be there, it just had to be.

"Outside the box," Reid whispered to himself, eyes screwed shut, pinching the bridge his nose as he paced restlessly around the surveillance room. "Come on… What are we missing? What are we missing?"

He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. He was desperate for a caffeine, and cursed himself for not stopping at the coffee joint down the street or at least at the gas station before he arrived at the station and isolated himself in here. No sooner did the wish for coffee cross his mind when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone rapping their knuckles on the door. Two knocks, confident, barely a split-second pause in between.

Morgan.

He scoffed at himself for actually knowing the man's_ knock_, running a hand through his fringe on his forehead as he turned to face his friend. "Hey Morgan," he greeted hurriedly, crossing over to the whiteboard he had on display, barely casting the man a glance in his haste.

"You look like hell, kid," Morgan chuckled, making Reid glance up. At once he zeroed in on the two carton flasks of coffee in Morgan's hands. Morgan grinned widely and raised one, shaking it lightly. "Two teaspoons of sugar." He held it out in front of him, waiting expectantly for Reid to come and grab it. The inability to resist the caffeine strong within him, Reid strode forward, grabbing the flask. He halted in his movements as he felt a tug on the flask as soon as he grabbed it; Morgan wasn't letting it go. The older man's smile morphed into a smug smirk, his tongue pushed against the back of his bottom teeth.

"Any chance I could get a reward for my heroic actions?" he murmured suggestively.

Red and sputtering, Reid almost yanked the flask away from Morgan, muttering an incomprehensible string of words, including, "unbelievable" and "completely insatiable."

Morgan laughed and sauntered forward, increasing Reid's frustration as he purposefully made his hips sway a lot more than usual. "All joking aside, pretty boy," Morgan said. "Maybe you need a break. You've been working yourself ragged here for a while. Have someone else-"

"No, can't do that," Reid shook his head twice, lowering his mouth to the lip of the flask to drink.

"And why not?" Morgan asked.

"I'm close, Morgan, I just need to keep at it," Reid said, walking around Morgan toward his makeshift workstation where his laptop was currently sitting. "I gotta think outside the box right? That's the only way we're going to be able to find out who's setting these fires. This isn't the make of a typical arsonist. The answer's here, I just have to find it. I can't take a break."

He sat down heavily at the chair in front of his computer, pulling up the video of the fire that killed Matthew Rowland. He heard Morgan approach, heard the heavy footfalls behind him, but still had to refrained from gasping when he felt Morgan's lips grazing his ear, biting back his reaction.

"Don't work yourself too hard, Reid," Morgan breathed, lightly nipping at the glowing red earlobe before pulling back, and Reid kept his stiff posture until he heard Morgan's steps disappear into the hallway and the door close. He sighed, allowing his tense muscles to relax, and then he noticed that Morgan had left his drink, untouched, right next to Reid's.

* * *

So with this story, I'm trying to aim more at the relationship aspect of Morgan and Reid, rather than focusing on the cases. The cases will remain the exact same as the TV series, and if there are any changes to be made they will be shown. I hope you all enjoyed this! Again, please let me know what you think in the reviews or PMs!


	3. Plain Sight

A/N: You all probably realized that I skipped over the third episode, and yes I did that on purpose. Like I mentioned in the previous chapter, this story will mainly be centered around Morgan and Reid's relationship rather than the cases, and it's difficult to create a story-line with episodes that don't really involve that much interaction between them. So here's episode four and chapter three! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the plot of Criminal Minds.

* * *

Reid's 24th birthday honestly came as a surprise to him. His job already never really allowed for much downtime and always kept him busy, what with the recent bombing case in Boston involving Adrian Bale's copycat a few days ago. It didn't help matters much that once they returned back to Quantico they were each struck with a large stack of paperwork, Morgan and Elle slyly slipping a few of their own files into Reid's growing pile. Reid wasn't complaining, though; he loved his job and for reasons that his colleagues would never be able to understand, completing the paperwork that came with the job was therapeutic to him, keeping his mind at work and keeping him calm.

So when he arrived at the bureau Sunday morning to Elle, JJ, Morgan and Garcia crowding around his workstation with a well-decorated cake resting on his desk, he was genuinely confused for a moment until Garcia approached him with her arms stretched out toward him.

"It's the birthday boy!" she announced happily, hugging him to her bosom tightly.

Reid hesitantly returned her hug before it finally clicked and he let out a disbelieving laugh. "My birthday, I completely forgot!"

"The famous, all-knowing brain of Doctor Reid managed to forget that he turns one year older today?" Morgan mock-gasped, a hand on his heart. Garcia prevented Reid from answering at first when she pulled back, but not before pressing a large kiss on his cheek with a loud "mmmwah!"

Reid was sure eggs could have been fried on his face. "Garcia!" he squawked. The technical analyst giggled and patted his shoulder before moving back, allowing Morgan to step forward. "And I am entitled to forget a few things, you know? According to research, one of the ways the human brain would forget something is through disuse, and seeing as how I never made a deal about my birthday before-"

"Happy birthday, Reid," Morgan cut in, a cheerful smile adorning his face, and he wrapped his arms around Reid in a firm hug. Startled, Reid could do nothing but hug him back, pressing his smile into Morgan's shoulder. He almost shivered as Morgan's breath blew past his ear and when he muttered too low for the others to hear, "Got your birthday present, I'll give it to you later."

"Come on, Morgan! Stop hogging the birthday boy, we want to give him some love too!" JJ called from Reid's desk. Morgan laughed and let Reid go, and Reid lowered his head sheepishly, willing back his reddening cheeks.

JJ and Elle both moved forward and each gave him a warm hug, and then Reid was pushed into his chair and the cake was in front of him, twenty-four candles lit up and blazing brilliantly on one corner of the chocolate-frosted and blue trimmed cake with the words _Happy Birthday Reid_ in neat yellow letters. Garcia shoved a huge cartoonish cake hat and smacked his hands away when he tried to remove it as they erupted into a messy chorus of "Happy Birthday." Reid waved shyly at Hotch and Gideon when they entered the bullpen, humor evident in their eyes.

"Happy birthdaaaay to yoouuuu!" the team finished, cheering as they completed the song, Morgan's firm hands on his shoulders.

Hotch allowed for a rare smile to appear on his face as he approached the party. "Happy birthday, Reid."

"Thanks, Hotch," Reid said, shoulders hunched in slight embarrassment from all the attention he was receiving. Gideon nodded at him, patting Reid's hat gruffly as he passed, causing the hat to come down past his eyes.

"Make a wish," Elle grinned. Reid rolled his eyes lightly and just went straight for blowing out the candles. And he did, over and over again. They kept relighting themselves. Wildly confused, and partly giddy with the excitement of a child because _what the heck was going on?_, he kept blowing.

"Come on, man! Blow, baby, _blow_!" Morgan said, hand on Reid's upper back.

"I thought you were full of hot air, Reid," Elle joined in, her little pun lost to Reid's befuddled mind.

"Come on, Reid!" Morgan encouraged, his voice a pitch higher from holding back his laughter. Garcia said nothing besides falling into a fit of giggles, her face almost maroon by how much she was laughing at the scene in front of her.

"They're trick candles, Spence," JJ said, taking pity on Reid's bewilderment. "Okay? They're gonna- they're gonna come back on every time."

"Oh! JJ!" Garcia chastised. "Ruin all the fun!"

That didn't stop Reid from attempting to blow them out again, his cheeks puffing out as he blew harshly, wonderfully confused by this little trick, even as the logic of how it was possible was already starting to form in his head. It still didn't mean it wasn't fun though.

"Awww, mommy to the rescue!" Morgan teased, grabbing the brim of Reid's hat and bobbing Reid's head around, increasing the dizziness that he was already suffering from the amount of air he blew at the candles.

"Mommy?" Reid frowned at Morgan's remark. "JJ's not my mom."

"Ignore him," Elle said, shaking her head at Morgan's antics and Reid's innocence.

"Hey, Reid?" Morgan said, and Reid turned in his seat to look at the man staring down at him. "Does this make you legal yet?"

"Oh, ha ha," Reid laughed sarcastically as Garcia chortled, his fingers twitching restlessly as Elle and JJ were both there now, almost leaning over him to reach the plates and plastic eating utensils by the cake.

"Hope you like chocolate," Garcia sang, also reaching for her plate. Reid raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, sure that he looked visibly uncomfortable at the three woman hovering over him, and at Morgan, who was now leaning over him as well, his stomach pressing against the back of Reid's head. He cleared his throat roughly.

"Aw look, you blew wax on the cake, man," Morgan said, clapping a hand down on Reid's shoulder. Reid swallowed and finally just stood up, leaving his friends crowding around the cake to take a piece, the claustrophobia finally getting the best of him. He coughed slightly, approaching Gideon where he leaned against the cabinets by the stairs, feeling like an absolute fool standing next to his mentor wearing Garcia's hat.

"You having fun?" Gideon asked.

"Oh yeah," Reid answered, light sarcasm lacing every word. "I'm definitely having fun." While he appreciated the sentiment of his friends remembering and actually bothering to celebrate his birthday, something he hadn't really thought previously as a big deal anyway, he felt extraordinarily ridiculous and exposed

"You make a wish?"

"... Can I take this hat off?" Reid tried hopefully, glancing up into the bright blue brim.

He saw Gideon take a glance over where Morgan, Elle, JJ, and Garcia were all still huddled as they carefully sliced the cake into equal parts. Garcia smacked at Morgan's hand when he ventured to make his slice extra thick. Gideon turned back to Reid and frowned, his lower lip jutting out thoughtfully. "I wouldn't."

"Yeah," Reid mouthed awkwardly, shifting nervously in his place.

"Oh no you _don't_, Morgan!" came Garcia's voice, and the click of her heels signaled her approach, causing Reid to glance up. "The birthday boy gets the first slice, it's common courtesy!"

Reid nodded at Gideon and walked toward Garcia, accepting the slice offered to him. "Thanks," he whispered. Garcia grinned and affectionately patted his cheek. He had just rejoined his friends at his desk and just took his first bite of Garcia's homemade cake when Hotch reappeared, looking grim.

"Sorry, guys. Party's over."

xXx

"Brenda Samms was found yesterday by her children when they got home from school," Hotch said, reading off the report in his hands as he maneuvered his way down the main aisle of the jet. "She had been strangled with a thin ligature, possibly a wire."

"No weapon left at the scene," Elle noted.

"Residue on the wrist and mouth indicate that duct tape was used then removed," Reid added, holding up the crime scene photos of Brenda Samms' body.

"Also not found at the scene," Hotch replied.

"Brought it with him, took it with him," Elle said.

"He also started leaving messages at the fourth scene," Hotch said. He held up a picture of red lettering on a mirror found at the crime scene. "This was on the mirrors. _Fair lady, throw those costly robes aside_."

At that intro, a strong feeling of recognition was awakened in Reid, and he looked up, brows pinching together in focus and curiosity.

"_No longer may you glory in your pride. Take leave of all your carnal, vain delight._"

"_I've come to summon you away this night_," Reid concluded, a rush of excitement bubbling in his chest as he placed where he knew the piece from. "Uh, it's a ballad from the late 1600s." He pretended not to notice Morgan's lost expression as he threw his arms out in clear exasperation. "A dialogue betwixt death and a lady."

"A 17th century ballad?" Elle questioned.

"Yeah, essentially a woman begging death to live," Reid answered, his eyes flickering towards Morgan. The older man looked back down with a silent scoff, shaking his head. Reid pressed his lips together tightly and turned away.

"What kind of person knows this ballad?" Elle continued. "Are we looking for a literature professor?"

"Anyone with an internet connection, actually," Reid said. He huffed out a breath of laughter as he continued, "You should see what come in when you type the word 'death' into a search engine."

"Reid, no wonder you can't get a date," Morgan called from the back of the jet.

It was meant to be a joke, the rational part of Reid's mind fully understood this. But the other part of his mind, the part that couldn't help sending reminders that it was _Morgan _that said this, registered this as something different, almost like a personal attack, and his smile fell.

"Reid, you stay on the messages. See if there's a deeper meaning," Gideon suggested. Reid nodded his agreement.

"Well, it definitely looked like he ransacked the crime scene pretty well," Morgan said.

"A lot of damage, nothing taken," Hotch added.

"The eyes are the thing, the signature," Gideon put in. "The behavior that isn't necessary for the murder, but necessary for the emotional release. That's what he's here for."

"There used to be a widely held belief that the eyes record a snapshot of the last thing a person sees before they die," Reid offered.

"Yeah, that's right, people used to write poems about talking to death," Morgan added.

"Ballads," Reid couldn't help but correct the other man.

Morgan sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Another sting. He knew that Morgan was not taking anger out on him. He knew that the amount of knowledge he held in his mind was considered abnormal and weird to the "normal" person, so Morgan's frustration with all that Reid offered was deemed perfectly reasonable, at least to Reid. But still, he couldn't quite understand just why he cared so much, or why a feeling of hurt was blooming in his chest.

"You think they'll ever run out of new things to do to their victims?" Elle asked, staring down at the picture of the ballad verse left on Brenda's wall.

"Well, finding new ways to hurt each other is what we're good at," Gideon said, his dark eyes flitting between Reid and Morgan, light suspicion in his eyes. Reid looked away quickly, unwilling to meet the piercing eyes of the elder profiler. He risked a glance at Morgan though, and saw that he was leaning back in his seat, observing the photos in front of him like nothing was affecting him.

"Yeah," Reid muttered almost inaudibly to himself, falling back into his seat.

xXx

Their strategy had worked well; they had arrested the man who had attempted rape Marcia Gordon and splashed his face all over the news in link to the killings, hoping to anger their unsub into making a mistake or calling in. He was definitely furious, if the phone call last night was anything to go by. The police chief had supplied each team with undercover cars to hide the agents in plain sight as they waited for their suspect to make an appearance, knowing through the geographical profiling that it was likely to occur in the same stretch of the neighborhood the other murders had occurred in. It was late morning, and the unsub was likely to show his face soon.

Definitely not a good time to be having a heated make out session with Derek Morgan in the car.

"Morgan," Reid groaned against Morgan's lips, his hands on each of Morgan's shoulders, weakly and half-heartedly attempting to push back the other agent's advances. Morgan responded with a low moan, his fingers carding through Reid's tousled hair. "Morgan, we need to stop. The… The unsub…"

With a defeated sigh and one last final press of their mouths, Morgan pulled away, and Reid found regretting the fact that they had to separate, a part of him missing the warmth of Morgan's embrace and the movement of Morgan's lips against his. He cleared his throat and began to nervously flatten his hair back to looking somewhat normal, his paranoia forcing him to look around to check if anyone had seen them, regardless of the fact that the others were stationed out of sight.

Morgan sighed, taking a glance at his watch. "It's already 10:30."

Reid swallowed, fidgeting in his seat. "All he said was 'tomorrow.' He didn't specify morning."

"Reid, this guy's gotta spend a lot of time in that house," Morgan replied, and Reid could feel the heat of the previous moment slipping away, replaced with the all-too familiar professional environment of their work. "A lot. He needs it to be morning."

Reid once again turned to look around them, this time not for paranoiac reasons but for the concern of missing their unsub. "Are we sure this is a good spot?"

"Three of the victims lived within a block of this street," Morgan answered. "It's the main artery through the neighborhood."

"True," Reid agreed. "But three victims in the same block could mean that he's done with the area."

"Or that he's really familiar with it," Morgan added.

"And comfortable in it."

"But then, on the other hand, the other victims lived more than a mile in either direction." Reid coincided.e made a face when he heard the distinct noise of Morgan's smacking the steering wheel of their vehicle in frustration.

"God, I hate not having a plan," Morgan almost growled. "We're looking for a needle in a haystack here."

"Actually it's more like we're looking for a needle in a pile of needles," Reid said.

He saw Morgan slowly turn to face him, his confusion clear even behind his sunglasses. "_What_?"

"Well, a needle would stand out in a haystack," Reid answered soberly.

Morgan's chest rumbled with the low chuckle he gave at Reid's answer. "Okay," he played along. "And we're not looking for someone who stands out?"

"No. We're looking for a _particular _needle… In a pile of needles," Reid concluded, raising his binoculars to his eyes without another word. He felt his heart leap again at the soft laugh that Morgan gave by the end of their mini-banter. After a moment, after Reid had finished his scan of the street and was leaning against the passenger door, after the light-heartedness of their conversation dulled down, after he couldn't take the question buzzing around in his head anymore, he spoke.

"Morgan?" Reid muttered.

"Yeah, kid?"

"... Do you really believe that my extensive knowledge is a flaw?"

Morgan's brow arched and he turned to look at Reid, who turned away to stare out the window of the stationary vehicle as the nerves got the best of him. "What are you talking about?"

"It's just… On the jet earlier, you… You know, n-never mind, it's stupid. Forget - Forget I ever said anything," Reid stammered, waving away the conversation as he shook his head, staring at his knees.

He could feel Morgan's piercing gaze, still as strong behind those sunglasses of his, boring a hole into his skull. The silence between them was deafening, during which time Reid inferred Morgan was processing what he heard before he came up with a response. He heard Morgan sigh. "Listen-"

Morgan's phone went off, the consistent ringing cutting into whatever Morgan was going to say. Morgan sighed once again and dug his phone out of his pocket, pressing the send button and raising it to his ear.

"Yeah, Hotch?"

Reid was silent as he waited in his seat, nervously picking at the hem of his shirt. He wanted to know what Morgan was going to say before he was interrupted, but at the same time dreaded it and was relieved that Hotch called when he did. He had had his intelligence questioned before, had people that poked fun at his brain, was teased relentlessly by how much he knew, was even bullied for it back in school.

His colleagues turned friends in the BAU made him realize that everything they said was all in good fun and that no harm was meant by it, but he still couldn't help his insecurities from resurfacing whenever they stared at him blankly when he rambled on about statistics and random facts, or cut him off quickly before he could. He couldn't help but feel that familiar tight press in his chest when he believed his words weren't needed or even wanted.

Morgan hung up the phone and placed it in the cupholder between them. "Hotch needs us to go to the unsub's workplace at Bell San Diego. Franklin Graney, phone technician." As he spoke he turned the key in the ignition and shifted the gear to drive, pulling away from the curb.

There was a lull in conversation between the two men. Reid chewed on his bottom lip anxiously, for once not quite knowing what to say. He didn't have to worry for long as Morgan suddenly began speaking.

"I hope you understand that whenever we tease you for your smarts, or whenever it seems like we get annoyed at what you have to say, it's never intended to hurt you," Morgan said, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove down the street at a moderate pace to Graney's work.

"I know," Reid nodded.

"Never think that we believe your intelligence is a flaw, Reid," Morgan continued. "It's anything but."

Oddly touched, his heart swelling, Reid's lips quivered into a faint smile. "Thanks."

"It's also one of your more attractive features. I would know." Morgan's tone turned playful, and Reid cast a sidelong glance at his companion in sync with Morgan. "Don't think that I haven't forgotten that I owe you a birthday present." Morgan clicked his tongue and winked, grinning widely.

Reid turned away and rolled down the window, allowing the breeze of the morning to counteract the heat rushing to his face.

xXx

Other than the cake back at his desk in Quantico, and Morgan's "gift" that was to be delivered God knows when, Reid sincerely was not expecting any presents. He wasn't even expecting anyone to even remember or notice his birthday, like he had so blatantly done the last few years. So when Gideon handed him a box wrapped in royal blue paper and a red ribbon, he was slightly stunned.

"Forgot to give it to you at the party," Gideon said, watching him expectantly. Reid got the message and began unwrapping the present, revealing a small box containing two tickets.

Reid smiled politely. "Wow. The Red Skins."

Gideon gestured toward the box in Reid's hand. "It's a VIP box."

"Wow," Reid said, examining the tickets. "Thank you so much."

"Ever been to a pro football game?" Gideon asked.

Reid huffed out a laugh. "No, I honestly didn't even know this was football."

Gideon chuckled. "You're gonna love it."

"We are. You're coming with me right?" Reid said, a confused smile on his face as he held up the two tickets.

"No," Gideon said. "I actually had someone else in mind for you to bring along to the game." And then the atmosphere around the two took a serious turn, and Gideon leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as a contemplative look came across his face. "How long have you and Morgan been involved?"

Reid felt the blood drain out of his face and pretty much out of every single one of his limbs and digits, cold with dread and eyes widening as he processed the question Gideon asked, his mouth opening and closing in what he was sure was a comical way. His heart skipped a couple of beats, thudding against his rib cage, and he placed the tickets in the box before they got soiled with the thin film of sweat coating his hands.

"I-uh-I don't-" Reid stammered wildly, freezing when Gideon held up a hand.

"Don't try to lie to me, Spencer," Gideon said, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

Reid exhaled sharply, his eyes darting down to the chessboard in front of him in an effort to distance himself from the all-seeing eye of Jason Gideon. "H-How did you find out?" he whispered.

"You know, you're not all that hard to profile," Gideon replied easily. "A look here, a touch there, and you just basically confirmed it for me."

Reid gulped, his throat dry. "Well, uh… Even so, Gideon, it's not… like _that, _anyway."

"But you want it to be."

The bluntness of that statement took Reid's breath away, his hazel brown eyes blinking and narrowing in defeat as the wall he had so carefully constructed was crumbled down. He had been fighting it. Oh, but he had tried so hard to fight it. He ignored the true reason why it meant so much to him to know what Morgan thought about him. He pushed back the yearning he felt whenever he looked at Morgan, stubbornly writing it off as strictly physical attraction for the man even though a part of him knew that there was _more _there. The realization kept trying to sneak up on him, trying to creep into his mind and pick a spot and thrive with possibilities and wishful thinking.

But Gideon, as always, was right. Somewhere down the line, likely from their time spent together, Reid had fallen for Derek Morgan.

"But it's not," Reid said, surprised at the strong conviction in his voice. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. "And it won't ever be. Thank you for the gift, Gideon… But I can't use them how you want me to, I'm sorry." He picked up the box with the tickets and began handing them back, stopping when Gideon raised his hand.

"You're a good man, Spencer," Gideon said, turning back to their neglected chess game. "And a pretty good chess player." He moved his piece to his desired area, and with a start Reid saw the disadvantage Gideon placed him in.

"Zugzwang," he muttered.

Gideon shook his head. "No. Right now, you're only seeing what you want to see, that things will have an undesirable outcome no matter what you choose," Gideon continued. "But…" He reached over to Reid's side of the board and carefully moved Reid's rook to the necessary square. "It doesn't have to be. You can also choose to realize that there are ways to get out of it."

Reid stared at the board, sucking in his bottom lip between his teeth as he ran his mentor's words through his mind, his heart racing in his chest.

"I… I appreciate it, Gideon, I really do," Reid whispered, bowing his head down further. "But I just can't."

Gideon nodded. "Though I was hoping to sway your mind, I also expected this. That's why I propose another companion to join you at the game, someone who I know is a huge Red Skins fan." His eyes flickered to the back of the jet, and Reid turned to see where his gaze fell and saw JJ overlooking her reports of the case.

"Uh, Gideon," Reid said, turning back. "JJ's great and everything, but not exactly someone I'd take out on a date."

"Who said it had to be a date?" Gideon smiled.

* * *

Done! So a few things: first off, the moment of Zugzwang. I do not know chess, nor do I pretend to know, but in this chapter there was NO case of zugzwang during the game between Reid and Gideon; I just wanted to kinda show how narrow-minded Reid was being about the whole Morgan thing and choosing only to see the negative outcomes, hence why Gideon said "No" when Reid thought that he was zugzwanged and telling him that there were ways to get out of a bad situation without believing that it was impossible straightaway. Make sense?

Morgan is still of the mind that the relationship he has with Reid is purely physical, and the moments that are displayed above are just him being Reid's friend. Just because you're strictly in a sexual relationship with someone doesn't mean that you stop caring about them, right? Poor Reid.

Garcia is in the birthday scene because I wanted her to be. And because I kind of need her bond with the team to form a little quicker than before for the purpose of the story!

Also, no smut scene for this chapter. Sorry all! Next chapter should hopefully be up soon. Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Broken Mirror

A/N: Back again! Short chapter this time though, I promise the next one will be slightly longer. In this chapter, dialogue will be switched around to better fit the story I have planned, just so that you guys know. Hope you all enjoy, and please let me know what you think or any suggestions you may have in the reviews or PMs, I welcome them wholeheartedly!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the plot of Criminal Minds.

* * *

"Soooo…" a voice drawled to Reid's right, startling the younger man greatly as he exited the elevator, clutching his case files closer to his chest with a small gasp. Upon recognizing who it was, he glared minutely at his companion, who in return just laughed and clapped a hand on Reid's shoulder.

"Relax, man," Morgan grinned, giving an affectionate squeeze before falling into step beside Reid, both of them walking toward the bullpen. "So how did it go with JJ at the Red Skins game, huh?"

"It's top secret," Reid muttered back, a playful twinge underlying his words.

"Huh. Did you have fun on your little date then?"

Reid frowned. To the regular person, nothing had truly changed in the demeanor of the two men talking, but Reid was no regular person, and he definitely knew Morgan. His tone changed drastically from playful and amused to something stiffer, a hard edge to his voice that wouldn't be noticed by just anyone. "Uh, Morgan, you of all people know that it wasn't a date."

"Hm. Right."

"... Is something upsetting you, Morgan?" Reid asked, stopping abruptly in front of the glass-pane entrance to the bullpen. Morgan turned to face him, a dark eyebrow quirked in innocent confusion.

"No. Why would anything be upsetting me?" Morgan replied back easily. _A little too easily,_ Reid noticed. Could it be… No. He refused to succumb to ridiculous wishful thinking and over-analyzing of the situation. He had admitted his less than platonic emotional attraction to the dark FBI agent, yes, but there was absolutely no way he would let Morgan know of that.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder. A thoughtful look came across Reid's face, and Morgan's raised brow lowered until it was knitted with his other one. "What?"

"Did that bother you?" Reid asked. "Me being with someone else?"

A part inside Reid lurched with delight when he noticed Morgan's face go as pale as his skin could allow, an aggravated expression spreading throughout his features as he opened his mouth, a stammer ready on his tongue. "What? That's… _What_?"

"It does bother you, doesn't it?" Reid allowing his face to morph into a smug expression, his smile almost triumphant as he watched Morgan fidget in agitation right before his eyes. "That I could be with someone else besides you?"

Morgan scoffed, shaking his head as he turned away from Reid to push open the door. "I think your date messed with your brains more than you realize, Reid," Morgan said, his carefree attitude returning so easily it was as if it had never left. But his brows twitched at the word 'date,' and Reid couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his face as he followed Morgan to the workstations, even as he fiercely quelled down the excitement he got from the moment.

xXx

The abduction of an Executive Assistant U.S. attorney's daughter was definitely enough for the BAU team to start packing their bags and boarding the jet to New Haven, Connecticut.

Evan Davenport and his daughter Cheryl were, understandably, distraught with the kidnapping of Patricia, Cheryl's twin sister, and were completely willing for the FBI to do everything they could do ensure Trish's safe return. Once the Davenport residence was swept, they had their equipment set up in the dining room in preparation of the unsub's contact.

The ransom was definitely to be expected; after all, the daughter of a Executive Assistant U.S. attorney was a pick that would have attracted a lot of perps and definitely increased the sense of value in their eyes. But there still felt something off about the way the unsub was executing his plan, not just for the ransom drop, but overall. It wasn't until Cheryl Davenport was instructed to go to a rental car lot for the drop that that Morgan and Hotch discovered the unsub's true plan: a second abduction.

Cheryl was shaken, but otherwise unharmed. Evan was beside himself with worry, overwhelmed when the unsub revealed his obsession with both of his daughters and declared that they would all be together soon.

Later on that night, both he and Cheryl completely broke down as Gideon continuously hung up on the unsub's repeated calls, no doubt trying to infuriate and apply pressure on him. When Gideon finally allowed for him to speak, the unsub was enraged, taunting each member of the team and revealing all he knew about them, such as Hotch's loyalty to the job rather than home, Gideon's mentality, Reid's insecurity, Elle's lack of intimidation, and Morgan's all-brawn attitude. By the end, after the unsub had screamed, "I know who you are, I know how you think, and I know what to do next! Do _you_?"and hung up with a click that echoed in the still dining room, Evan was the first to speak.

"What the hell was that?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from tears. "Why did he say that he knows what to do next?" His breaths and voice quivered as he continued, "Is he gonna hurt my daughter?"

Gideon shook his head. "He was grandstanding."

"You don't know that," Evan accused desperately. He then abruptly stood, making to get closer to where GIdeon sat, Morgan's strong hand on his shoulder the only thing stopping him. "You-You can't possibly know that."

"Mr. Davenport, I have learned more in the last five minutes than in the last twenty-four hours," Gideon said gently.

"Oh really? Well I don't understand. Why is he focused on you right now?" Evan countered.

"Because we are interfering in his relationship with the girls," Morgan answered, his hand tightening ever so slightly on Evan's shoulder.

"He says he knows all about you," Evan said.

"Yes, apparently," Hotch spoke up.

"He profiled us, Mr. Davenport," Morgan said.

"Why would he do that?" Cheryl asked, her face, blotchy from tears and stress, pinching into a confused expression.

"To show us how smart he is," Elle replied.

"Oftentimes, the best profilers are the unsubs themselves," Reid offered from where he sat in front of the computer. "They're the ones who are able to walk into an arcade full of children and pinpoint the boy or girl that can be led out quietly."

"But he made a mistake," Elle continued, shaking her head as he eyed the equipment in front of her. "Because he gave us something he didn't expect."

"Uh-huh, which is?" Evan asked.

"He told us how to find him," Gideon concluded.

xXx

Agent Vincent Shyer, one of Evan Davenport's close friends, was apprehended after attempting to abduct Cheryl Davenport in the safe house she was placed in once they discovered that the unsub had to be an FBI agent. After a scuffle in which Elle quickly gained the upper hand, he had given the her location of where Trish was. They found her, slightly bruised and disoriented from the sedatives given to her to subdue her, but thankfully alive. Her sister and father accompanied her in the ambulance to take her to the hospital after expressing their emotional gratitude to the team.

As they returned home that very same night, Reid watched as Morgan dropped his bags heavily on his workstation with a sigh. Reid quickly deducted Morgan's frustration to have stemmed from his encounter with Shyer; unsuspecting and his guard down, Morgan had taken a pretty bad taser hit from Shyer in the kitchen of the safe house, knocking him out and leaving him with a horrible looking electrical burn to his lower abdomen. Reid believed it was safe to assume that Morgan was beating himself up over how quickly Shyer took him down.

The rest of the team exchanged exhausted goodbyes, desperate to leave the building and escape to the comfort of their homes and beds, but Morgan stayed put, switching on the desk lamp he had propped up and digging into his bag for a fresh bandage. The rest of the team had left by now, and other than the custodians covering their nightly shift, Reid and Morgan were alone.

Reid chewed on his inner lip as he approached Morgan's desk, cringing at the hiss that passed through Morgan's lips as the older man carefully replaced the bandage on his wound. He was holding the hem of his shirt up with his teeth, and Reid swallowed as his eyes trailed upwards, slowly skimming his eyes over smooth bronzed skin, dark pectorals, and an intricate design of a tattoo trailing from his lower back...

"You gonna keep staring there, pretty boy?" Morgan suddenly said, his voice slightly muffled as he had yet to let go of his tee, his dark eyes snapping over to where Reid stood, struck dumb with Morgan's question. He chuckled and let his tee slip from between his teeth, gently smoothing down the cloth over the wound.

Reid's lips pulled into an awkward smile as he walked forward until his thigh pressed against the edge of Morgan's desk. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, though his voice seemed to resonate in the empty bullpen. Morgan was silent, slowly lowering himself in his chair, his face pinched as he struggled not to jostle the burn. "You took a taser hit, Morgan."

"Yeah? So what if I did?" Morgan said evasively, keeping his eyes on the computer screen in front of him, reaching out to grab his coffee mug. There was only enough of the dark liquid for one more sip.

"So no one expects you to complete the Davenport file tonight."

Morgan sighed and licked his lips, turning to face Reid. "I guess it's still pretty fresh in my mind. Nothing like 50,000 volts in your back to keep your motor running huh?" He chuckled lightly, but sighed once again when he realized Reid didn't look the slightest bit amused.

Reid swallowed harshly, his throat burning as an unexpected lump threatened to form there. "I'm glad you're alright, Morgan."

Morgan's mouth twisted into a crooked, yet at the same time reassuring, smile. "It's gonna take a lot more than a taser hit to take me down, Reid," Morgan said, winking playfully at the man before him.

"Yeah," Reid whispered, nodding. Clearing his throat roughly, he forced himself to smile, feeling it turn natural and warm as the seconds went by. "You're going to be here all night. Give me half."

Morgan took a deep breath and smiled softly, gathering a few files and offering them to Reid. "Okay. You asked for it. Knock yourself out."

Reid grabbed the files offered by Morgan and quickly scanned the amount, eyes twinkling as he took two from his pile and tossed them back onto Morgan's desk. "No passing off files to me tonight," Reid said lightly, feeling as his previous worry ebbed away and was replaced by warmth and exhilaration, despite the exhaustion and tension of the day.

Morgan laughed and nodded. "Alright, man."

"I'll get the coffee going," Reid said, dropping his files on his desk as he made his way toward the stairs leading to the break room.

When he got back, two fresh, steaming mugs in each hand, he smiled and pretended not to notice the two extra files on his desk.


	5. LDSK

A/N: This chapter will introduce something a little different: a change in point of view. This chapter will be in Morgan's point of view, and the story will now alternate points of view variously throughout chapters and sometimes within chapters. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the plot of Criminal Minds.

* * *

It had just been a good-natured joke, that whistle.

There was no doubt that Spencer Reid excelled in the academic and intellectual field, armed with three PhD's and two bachelors while working in the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI at the young age of 24. Reid was smart, Morgan already knew this. But he sorely lacked in the skills required to be on the field, his too thin and too lanky and almost fragile form causing for many stumbles, incoordination, and injuries. It was only through the interference of Jason Gideon that Reid was able to join the team as an agent, compensating for his lack of physical capabilities with his extensive knowledge.

Morgan had offered to tutor Reid himself for his qualification, but the young doctor had declined politely, avoiding Morgan's eyes as he said that he would work with Hotch instead. Morgan had shrugged it off and went about his day, not feeling the sting of Reid's rejection; Morgan knew first-hand that Hotch was a damn good instructor, having been trained by him as well when he had first started out. But even the famous Aaron Hotchner couldn't work miracles.

So when the morning of Reid's gun qualification arrived, Morgan buried himself in a book that he wasn't really reading, waiting for the genius to walk into the bullpen.

"Reid failed his qualification," Elle piped up as Gideon strolled through the bullpen, walking toward the stairs leading to the break room. Morgan lightly sucked in his cheeks, forcing his face to stay as blank as possible.

Without breaking stride, Gideon answered with a wave, "He can retest in two weeks."

"Yeah," Elle said, "but he's going to be embarrassed by it, so let's not mention it." She said the last part of her statement with a firm emphasis as she eyed Morgan pointedly, Gideon pausing long enough to coincide.

"Yeah, let's not, huh?" Gideon nodded, a warning gleam in his eyes as he turned and continued toward the break room. Morgan raised his brows and raised a hand from his book in false surrender.

"Not a word," he said.

But when soft footfalls approached the bullpen and Morgan leaned back in his chair and spotted Reid, walking briskly with his head hanging a minute lower than usual, lips tightened in a straight line and hands deep in his pockets, Morgan just couldn't resist.

Running his tongue across the front of his upper teeth, Morgan carefully saved the page of his book and placed it down. He stood, swiftly reaching into one of his desk drawers for his prize and hiding it in his fist as he approached Reid, who was now seated at his desk, rummaging through his satchel. Morgan rested a hand on Reid's desk, the other behind his back, and leaned down. "Hey," he greeted gently.

Reid halted his actions and looked up, and Morgan noted with a joyful glee that upon realizing who it was, Reid froze, his jaw set and his eyes hard, regarding Morgan with an air of suspicion.

"We're all here for you," Morgan continued. He kept his face neutral as Reid looked back down to his bag, clearly not buying into Morgan's sympathy. "I'm serious." Reid let go of his satchel and looked back up into Morgan's face with an inaudible sigh. "And if you ever need anything…" Then he quickly took the whistle he held in his fist and placed the lanyard around Reid's neck. Lifting the silver object to his lips and blowing once, a shrill tweet sounding from the object, he grinned at Reid's baffled expression. "Just blow on that," he finished, dropping the whistle, the object bouncing off Reid's chest once as Morgan clapped Reid once on the shoulder with a chuckle.

He was still snickering behind his mug as he drank his coffee, shrugging candidly at Elle's disapproving glare. Reid violently pulled the lanyard back over his head and tossed it on his desk, smoothing down the wayward hair he tousled in the action.

"Okay," the voice of JJ suddenly announced as she walked toward the workstations, Gideon and Hotch in tow. "Franklin Park, Des Plaines, yesterday afternoon." She quickly handed out the case files to her remaining team members, Morgan's smile disappearing as he took his file and opened it. "Three victims shot at distance, and it's the third such shooting in two weeks."

"A sniper?" Elle asked, scanning her own files by her desk.

Morgan quickly glanced up. "We don't use that word."

"Why not?"

JJ cut in before Morgan could answer. "The public perception is that the FBI doesn't have an exemplary record with snipers."

"Besides, a sniper is a professional marksman," Hotch added, flipping through his documents. "These guys aren't snipers."

Elle nodded her acknowledgment. "So what do we call them then?"

"L.D.S.K.," Hotch said.

"Long Distance Serial Killers," Reid clarified before Elle could ask, and she nodded once again.

"How many of these guys have we caught using a profile?" Elle questioned.

"None," Gideon spoke up for the first time. Morgan glanced back down at his file and sighed. Cases with a profile, though made easier to catch the unsub, were bad enough; cases where there is no profile available or where no unsub has been caught with a certain profile were worse to deal with.

"Wheels up in twenty," Hotch said, shutting his file as he stalked toward his office. One by one the team members dispersed, Morgan the last to leave. Reid had long since been gone, walking after Elle and JJ after grabbing his satchel and go-bag, but Morgan lingered as a flash of silver caught his eye. He smiled as he grabbed the whistle, and then he pocketed it for future use.

xXx

The whistle had honestly been a joke, but now Morgan wanted nothing more than for it to have never been necessary in the first place if it meant easing his mind ever so slightly about the fact that Reid and Hotch were barricaded in the ER with the heavily armed killer.

They were more than likely unarmed, had to be if the unsub was to retain his control over them. Morgan paced around the bustling hospital hallway filled with the SWAT team and Arlington PD, running a hand down his scalp. He couldn't shake it off for whatever reason that he might have felt better had Reid actually had a gun to disarm than the situation he was in now, which was absolutely no gun and armed with only his satchel and that damn whistle.

It was only a joke.

"He'll be alright," Gideon's voice said next to him, and Morgan turned to see the older profiler studying him from where he leaned against the wall. Morgan caught the fact the Gideon had said _he _and not _they _and he frowned, but before he could comment Gideon continued, "They have his profile, and they have the have a good chance to be able to end this peacefully. It's the most effective weapon we have."

"I understand all of that, Gideon, I do," Morgan sighed, walking past him to complete his pace. "Doesn't stop me from feeling helpless. I hate not being able to do anything."

"You're not the only one," Gideon replied. "Have faith. He'll be alright."

Again with the _he_. Morgan opened his mouth to question the elder man, but Gideon was gone, and the words vanished right out of his mouth and brain as he heard the lone gun shot sounding from the ER and the SWAT team leader screaming, "We go in _now_!"

Morgan's heart leapt in his throat as he remained rooted in his place.

_Oh, God…_

And then Hotch was shouting from within the room, "Federal agent, hold your fire!" and Morgan could breathe easily again. Immediate the feeling returned to his legs and he ran forward, ignoring professionalism for the moment as he pushed past the SWAT team to get inside the ER, the rest of the team following. Hotch was at the door giving the all clear, his hands tied in front of him.

The unsub was dead. And where was Reid?

Morgan rushed forward, maneuvering past the police and SWAT members surrounding the dead body of Phillip Dowd, spotting another body on the ground not too far away. Morgan's heart barely had time to freeze and tighten before Reid's leg moved, his knee bending as he struggled to sit up, his face pinched in pain. Morgan released a deep breath of relief as he crouched down next to Reid, flinching at the bruises and split lip that marred Reid's face.

"Hey kid," Morgan said, placing a steady hand on Reid's shoulder. "Glad you're alright. Dowd didn't hurt you too bad, did he?"

Reid groaned as he jostled something on his stomach, and he shook his head. "Wasn't Dowd," he hissed, grasping at the cabinet beside him, and Morgan sprung into action as he braced an arm around Reid's lower back, gently helping the younger agent to his feet.

"Come on, pretty boy, let's get you checked out," Morgan said, placing one of Reid's arms around his neck. Reid shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said, but then his knees buckled, Morgan catching him before he fell. Reid smiled sheepishly, albeit painfully from the split lip, at Morgan's raised brow. "O-Okay, maybe not so fine." He hissed again, placing his free hand gingerly on his stomach. "I think Hotch might have cracked one of my ribs."

"Wait, you're saying Hotch did this?" Morgan asked, surprising himself with the amount of harshness and anger he unintentionally placed in that question. Reid didn't appear to notice as he nodded.

"Yeah, he had to, so that I could get the gun holstered on his ankle," Reid answered, face contorting in pain with every small step they took toward the ER's exit. "Good plan. Painful, but good."

Though still inexplicably angry and feeling his blood flow return back to normal from the intense bout of worrying, Morgan laughed. "You're alright, kid," he said as they approached the rest of the team at the exit.

They walked past the crowd surrounding Phillip Dowd, and Morgan paused as Reid turned to stare past the crowd, toward the corpse that was on the ground. Morgan lowered his brows as he watched Reid; the younger man's eyes had become unfocused as he stared at the scene before him in fascination, eyes wide and curious. "Reid?"

"... I killed him." Reid's voice sounded so confused, yet so marveled, at what he had done, and Morgan felt for his friend. This was Reid's first kill since joining the bureau, and it was never an easy thing. Morgan sighed as he realized Reid had not fully come to terms with what he had done yet, and though he had not been hit completely with the fact that he had taken another human's life, no matter how bad that person was when he was alive, he would definitely be hit, and he would be hit hard.

Tightening his hold around Reid's waist, he guided the doctor away from the scene. "Let's go, pretty boy."

Once they finally reached the team, Reid was immediately swarmed; JJ came forward and gave Reid a gentle hug with a soft, "Thank God," mindful of his injuries, Elle hovered worriedly as she asked Reid if he was alright, and Hotch, whose hands by now were free from the zip tie, laid a hand on Reid's shoulder, eyes apologetic. Morgan kept his firm hold on the younger man.

"You did good, Reid," Hotch said sincerely. "Go outside and let the EMTs look you over."

"I'm-"

"You're not," Morgan snapped before Reid could deny medical attention. To Hotch, he said, "I'll take him." Hotch nodded and the team moved to let the two men pass. Once they reached the EMTs outside, Reid was once again swarmed, but this time Morgan had to let go of his friend as they dragged him to the back of an ambulance to examine him. He let out a long, deep breath and ran a hand across his face wearily.

"I told you he'd be alright."

"Jeez," Morgan muttered as his heart jumped at the appearance of Gideon standing by his shoulder, and he turned to send a semi-glare to the man. "Sure, give me a heart attack. We're already at the hospital."

Gideon smiled, his dark eyes glittering in the flashing red light of the ambulances. Morgan offered Gideon a half-smirk before turning to where Reid was leaning against the back of the ambulance, arms crossed in front of him and watching as the body of Dowd, covered in a white sheet with a blood spot by where his head was, was wheeled past him in a gurney.

Morgan grimaced. "It's going to hurt him."

"I know," Gideon answered. "It's never an easy thing, taking a person's life, especially for the first time, and especially when you're as young as he is."

There was a second of silence between the men as they watched Reid, who was now conversing with Hotch. It appeared to be a light-hearted conversation, a small smile gracing Reid's lips as he reached back and took Hotch's gun from his waistband. Morgan pondered over Gideon's words, knowing that at times it was difficult to remember that Reid was still very young, still very naive and innocent to a lot the world had to offer. And now he had killed someone. Morgan cringed as he realized that the smile on Reid's face would more than likely be gone the next time he saw him.

"Be there," Gideon murmured quietly.

Morgan turned to look at Gideon. "What?"

"When this all hits him, when he completely realizes what he did…" Gideon said, slowly meeting Morgan's eyes. Morgan caught a flash of something pass through the dark orbs, something haunting and sad, before it disappeared just as quickly as it came. "... Be there for him."

Morgan nodded at once. "You know I will."

He was taken aback to see Gideon's unconvinced expression, as if he believed that Morgan wouldn't go through with it, wouldn't be there to help Reid when he needed it, but then Gideon nodded and patted a rough hand on Morgan's shoulder, and he turned and walked back to the hospital.

Morgan turned back to Reid, seeing that Hotch had declined receiving his gun back, a rare smile spreading across Hotch's face as he left Reid there, the young doctor beaming as much as his lip would allow. Morgan approached as Reid cautiously pushed himself away from the ambulance and reached into his pocket.

"Hey, kid. You alright?" Morgan asked, ready to offer Reid a ride back to his apartment should he need it. The only response he received was a smug smirk and a flick of Reid's wrist, and then the silver whistle was in Morgan's hand, leaving Morgan staring at him, aghast, and Reid amused as the youngest walked off. Morgan clenched a fist around the object, the stupid joke he had started before this case had, and laughed.

"Touché, kid."

* * *

Reviews are like candy and I have a major sweet tooth.


	6. Filler: When It Does Hit

A/N: This will be a filler-type chapter that occurs after the events of LDSK and before the events of The Fox. Hope you all enjoy! **WARNING**: this chapter will contain male/male smut. First written one too, so please be gentle.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the plot of Criminal Minds.

* * *

It certainly did hit him. And it hit him hard.

Morgan's eyes barely had time to adjust to the waking world and spot his digital alarm clock, which glowed 2:42AM in neon green lights on his nightstand, before he flinched at the rapid knocking at his door. Pressing his forehead deep into his pillow with a groan, he slammed a heavy hand onto the head of his mattress, sitting up and throwing back his covers as he marched out of bed toward the disruptor of his much needed sleep.

Clooney, his German Shepherd, was yapping furiously at the door, his booming barks cutting through the still sleepy and angry haze in Morgan's mind. "Hush!" he snapped at the dog, who quickly stopped barking, cocked his head off to one side with a whine, and trotted away. Rubbing his worn face, Morgan continued on to his front door, ready to rip the head off the person _who wouldn't stop knocking_.

"It's two-thirty in the _fucking morning_, if we have a case it could have-!" Morgan huffed, his voice increasing to a yell as he wrenched his door open to face-

"Reid?" Morgan said, his anger rapidly dissipating, replaced with confused bewilderment. Though the members of the BAU team had previously agreed to not profile the other members, Morgan couldn't help but do a quick assessment now; Reid had his arms wrapped around his torso, almost protectively, and his hair, untamed at the best of times, was wild and tousled almost beyond repair, some strands slightly greasy from the apparent repeated motion of fingers running through it. His clothes were wrinkled and unkempt, as if he had just quickly threw something on himself before heading to Morgan's home. It was early November, the air growing more than just slightly chilly, and Reid was here, at 2:45 in the morning, clad in only a thin button-up and slacks.

Reid's face was flushed, his pink cheeks contrasting with his pale skin, and his breathing was ragged and harsh, visible in the small clouds escaping his mouth in the cold air. He kept his head down, making it impossible for Morgan to fully examine Reid's face. "Reid?" he asked again, his worry increasing for the appearance of his colleague.

Reid sniffed. "M-Morgan, I…" His voice was barely a croak, and his swallow was audible, like he was fighting back tears. Reid gave a visible shiver, and Morgan remembered him, springing into action.

"Jesus, Reid, get in here," Morgan said, grabbing Reid by his bicep and firmly pulling him inside, almost rolling his eyes at Reid's weak protests. "You're going to catch your death out here, kid. You're coming in." Morgan closed the door behind them, but kept his grip on Reid's arm as he led Reid further into the house.

Reid flinched as a small yip resonated in the living room, and Morgan turned to see Clooney standing at the threshold of the living room, leading into the laundry room, regarding Reid with canine curiosity. Morgan turned his attention back to Reid, silently leading him to the couch and sitting him down. "Stay here," he murmured, not giving Reid a chance to reply before he headed toward the laundry room.

Once the laundry room was closed with Clooney inside, Morgan returned back to Reid, carrying a small blanket acquired from the dryer. The younger man had not moved from his position on Morgan's couch, staring without seeing at Morgan's coffee table, still cowering in on himself. Morgan furrowed his eyebrows as he sat down next to his friend, draping the blanket over Reid's quivering shoulders.

"I shouldn't have come," Reid suddenly whispered.

"Well, you're here, and you're staying," Morgan replied, absentmindedly occupying himself with tucking in the blanket around Reid's form. "Now… what's wrong?"

When Reid fell silent again, Morgan forced himself to keep calm and not snap in annoyance at the young genius. Of all the people he had come to know in his life, Spencer Reid was definitely one of the most stubborn and bull-headed people he had ever met. Reid never talked about what was bothering him to anyone, instead opting to sit in a determined and miserable silence that dragged down the mood of anyone that was trying to get him to speak. Morgan felt his weariness of the whole situation increase and he rubbed his tired eyes.

"Kid," he muttered, one of his restless hands that was fiddling with the blanket now resting on the back of Reid's neck, squeezing once reassuringly. "What's wrong? Come on, now. You came all this way, might as well spit it out."

Reid shuddered, trembling under Morgan's hand, and he finally met Morgan's eyes. The older agent was horrified to see raw agony and back-breaking guilt contained in those bloodshot orbs, wet with tears. "I-I killed him, Morgan. I k-killed Dowd. Just shot him in the head, and I-" his voice caught here. "And I killed him. I killed him."

"Oh, pretty boy," Morgan sighed, using his hand to pull Reid in, pressing Reid's forehead into his bare shoulder as he wrapped his other arm around Reid's shoulders, hugging him tight. He closed his eyes as Reid shook with silent sobs. "You did what you had to do, Reid. I'm sorry that you had to do that, but you, Hotch, and all those people in the ER are still alive and well because of what you did."

"I know," Reid gasped, long fingers grasping the back of Morgan's neck, pushing himself even deeper into Morgan's embrace. "I know, I know that… B-But I keep…. I keep seeing it happen. He had his gun on Hotch, and I turned and pressed the trigger… It was so loud… And his eyes, Morgan. H-His eyes stared right at me. Then he just kinda jerked and then he fell and I-" A harsh sob escaped Reid here, rendering him momentarily speechless as he cried.

Morgan ran his hand up and down Reid's back, trying his best to offer his friend even the slightest bit of comfort as he grieved. He had known this would happen; he knew how rough killing someone for the first time was, even in the line of duty, and he knew that Reid was not immune to the shock of it. He himself had gone through it before, as had everyone else in their line of work, but he felt at a loss of what to say to his friend.

"What do you want me to do, Reid?" Morgan muttered, his chin slipping down the sandy strands on top of Reid's head. "Tell me what you want me to do."

There was no audible answer, for Reid had backed away from Morgan's arms far enough to throw himself back in, his lips attacking Morgan's with a ferocity that was completely alien, though not unwelcome, to the other man. The force of Reid's kiss caused Morgan to fall back on the couch, taking Reid with him, and he moaned as Reid straddled his waist. His heart stuttered as he felt Reid's already hard erection digging into his stomach, rubbing vigorously. Though it loathed him to do it, Morgan pulled back from Reid's kiss, ignoring the whimper of protest and evading him when he tried to resume.

"Reid-" Morgan panted.

"Just help me tonight, Morgan, please," Reid sobbed, tears trailing down his face with reverence, some slipping off his jaw and splashing onto Morgan's neck.

Morgan swallowed. "Reid, maybe this isn't the best idea right now-"

"Yes it is," Reid exclaimed hurriedly, leaning in and making up for Morgan's lack of participation by pressing his mouth everywhere else, kissing and nipping and licking Morgan's jawline, his neck, his collarbone, his cheeks. "It is._ I need this_, Morgan. Please, help me. Just help me forget for tonight, _please_."

Morgan closed his eyes. "Kid-"

"Not a kid," Reid growled, muffled by the kisses he was placing on Morgan's neck, and if the situation hadn't been so serious Morgan might have laughed. "Please, Morgan... Help me forget." Reid slowly pulled away, his face inches away from Morgan's, hands resting on the couch on either side of Morgan's head, Morgan's own hands gripping Reid's hips, the genius still straddling Morgan's waist. He was staring at Morgan with wide, frightened eyes, brimming with fresh tears, pleading, desperate. Morgan felt his resolve breaking down.

"_Please_."

With a defeated sigh, Morgan nodded, leaning up and pressing their lips together once more, shutting his eyes and reveling at the muffled moan of relief from Reid. He willed his mind to stop thinking and for his body to take over, somehow knowing that he, like Reid, desperately needed this too.

He vaguely remembered sitting up, Reid still straddling his lap, and bracing his arms around Reid's back and the underside of Reid's ass as he picked up him, Reid's long legs wrapping themselves securely around his waist. He could remember unable and unwilling to part from the devouring lips of his friend as he blindly made his way to his room, his knees hitting the edge of the mattress as they fell, bouncing on impact, their lips separating with a wet 'smack.'

Immediately they scooted up further on the bed, reconnecting their lips as Reid pulled Morgan in close so that he was almost laying on top of the doctor, their groins rubbing and creating delicious, lip-biting friction. Morgan's arm shot out toward his nightstand, the alarm clock blaring 3:06AM, searching for the lube and condoms he kept nearby when Reid's hand grabbed his wrist, halting his actions. Panting, confused, Morgan turned to look at Reid.

"I don't want those," Reid muttered thickly.

"Reid, it'll hurt," Morgan replied, a thread of worry emerging from the cloud of excitement that filled him up from what Reid was suggesting.

"I don't care." Reid's face was red, from both tears and from arousal, his pupils blown wide with lust, soft pants flowing past his swollen lips. The sight made Morgan, if at all possible, even harder. "I want to feel it, I wanna feel all of it. I'm clean, you're clean, and… and I trust you."

Morgan surged forward and kissed Reid, overcome by a feeling of such hunger and desire and _honor _that of all people, Reid decided to trust him with this. He moaned and moved his hands down yank down Reid's slacks, moving a little out of the way so the genius could kick them off his ankles were they were currently pooled, and he went to work on Reid's button-up, skillfully unclasping every pearly white button from its hole in record time. He shoved the shirt open and quickly bent down, capturing one of Reid's dusky nipples into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the sensitive pec while Reid gasped and writhed beneath him, struggling to remove his shirt. Not wanting to waste time, Morgan parted from Reid's chest, trailing his tongue down the midline of Reid's torso, pressing chaste kisses to the thin line of hair leading downwards and disappearing behind the waistband of Reid's white boxer briefs.

Smirking at the hitch in Reid's breathing, Morgan carefully caught the elastic band between his teeth and pulled down, slowly removing Reid's leaking cock from the confines of his underwear, small dots of precum already forming from the tip. Letting the cloth slip from between his teeth, he grabbed them to slide them down pale and gloriously long legs, and lowered his head.

He heard Reid suck in a breath between his teeth, "Morgan, wa-_mmmphhh_!"

"Hmmm?" Morgan hummed around the hot, throbbing flesh in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks out as he sucked lightly, and then massaging the thick vein protruding from the underside of Reid's cock with the tip of his tongue. Reid let out an incoherent yell, his hips bucking suddenly, causing more of him to enter Morgan's mouth. Luckily, Morgan anticipated this ahead of time and moved back, raking his teeth lightly along the sensitive skin as he pulled completely away. He moved up to where Reid lay, collapsed on one of his pillows, head thrown back, panting, and quickly shed himself of his own sweats and boxers. He lowered himself onto Reid, their bare bodies hot between them, and he groaned alongside Reid as their straining erections brushing against the other's.

"Morgan," Reid breathed. "Now. Please."

"No prep?"

Reid shook his head frantically. "Just do it."

Though he was hesitant to for risk of hurting Reid, Morgan nodded, quickly flipping the younger man onto his front. A surprised squeak escaped Reid, but Morgan didn't comment, raising Reid's hips so that his ass was in the air, his puckered entrance in line with Morgan's aching cock, but Morgan was hesitant to enter. Reid's hands clenched tightly around Morgan's pillow, turning to look at Morgan over his shoulder. "Please, Morgan. Just do it."

A sharp exhale, and Morgan braced himself, pushing into that wonderful, tight heat that was Reid. The younger agent let out a pained, coarse scream, arms flexing as he gripped the pillow and buried his face into the comforting cloth, shivers wracking his body. Morgan cringed at the obvious pain that he was putting Reid through, but Reid kept gasping, "Don't stop, don't stop, keep going," and what could Morgan do but obey? He seated himself completely in Reid, feeling his ecstasy threatening to overtake him as he moaned deep in his throat, his fingers tangling themselves in Reid's wavy locks.

"Go." With that whispered demand, Morgan let loose, pulling out and shoving himself back into that heat and then back again without giving Reid a chance to react to the first. Agonized grunts and cries pushed past Reid's lips, but he pushed back to meet every rough thrust Morgan gave as he penetrated Reid. Morgan continued his assault, eyes closed as he felt the walls of Reid's canal clenching and opening, adjusting to the feel of Morgan sliding in and out of him, his dick throbbing and pulsing as he fucked Reid hard. "Oh God, pretty boy…"

Reid whined in response, burrowing his face, contorted in equal parts pain and pleasure, deeper into the pillow. Morgan slowed, though his thrusts remained powerful, causing an impatient growl to escape Reid and the younger man reached back and latched onto Morgan's hip, long fingers digging into the skin there, urging them to resume as they were. Morgan complied with a grunt, his blunt nails creating crescent-shaped welts in Reid's hips, moving even harder and faster than before at Reid's groaned request.

It was Reid who came first, howling hoarsely into the fabric of the crumbled pillowcase as Morgan delivered continuous and unrelenting thrusts to his abused prostate, streams of semen spilling from him in long spurts. Morgan was much more quieter in his release, his head thrown back as he moaned softly, eyes closed and jaw slack as he filled Reid with his essence. Then there was only an echoing silence in the room, broken only by the hitched pants coming from the two men. Morgan sighed heavily as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the small of Reid's quivering back.

"You okay?" It came out as a whisper, so small and gentle and Morgan heard a sniff in reply.

"... No," Reid murmured.

And then he turned underneath Morgan, somehow managing to keep himself penetrated by Morgan's softened length. A small groan rumbled in the back of Morgan's throat as the friction the movement created around him caused a twitch in his groin, and then Reid's arms were around him, yanking him down to meet in a harsh kiss. And though he was so tired, his body trembling with exhaustion, and all he wanted to do was return to sleep, Morgan returned the kiss with renewed passion, feeling himself harden once more as they sunk into each other once more.


	7. The Fox

A/N: Follows the events of the previous filler chapter, and will now follow the script and plot starting on the seventh episode "The Fox." This chapter will also alternate points of view between both Reid and Morgan. I wasn't really happy with the way this chapter turned out; I kept rewriting the final scene and had originally planned for it to go a different way, but Reid and Morgan would not cooperate. Ughhh. But regardless, I feel fairly decent about how this chapter ended out of all of other previous endings, and I hope I did a fair job at keeping the two in character. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the plot of Criminal Minds.

* * *

Saturday morning came with the shriek of the alarm clock, startling Morgan awake with a gasp, his eyes flying open to reveal wide, dark brown orbs, reddened from the little amount of sleep he managed to achieve. His heart thudding gradually back to a normal rate, he rubbed a heavy hand across his face, scrubbing away the remnants of his dreams from his eyes. His other hand slammed down on the snooze button of his digital alarm clock. He was enveloped in silence once more at 7:31AM.

Taking a deep breath through his nostrils, he moved sluggishly as he pushed back his covers, slowly sliding his bare legs off the edge of the mattress and sitting up, massaging the back of his neck wearily. He fought back a shiver as the cold morning pricked at his naked skin, tempting him to sink back into his warm covers and sleep the rest of the day away. But obligation called out to him, and he forced himself to stand and stretch out the sleep that still wrecked his body, groaning at the joints that popped as he did.

Reid was gone, Morgan knew that he was. With their private relationship, there was no time or need to spend the night or to have that morning after waking up in the other's arms if it wasn't on a case where they were forced to share a room; that itself was better reserved for an actual relationship, something neither of them wanted from the other or were even ready for. But he still checked the empty space on the other side of the bed anyway, and still felt concern toward his friend. He tried to help Reid the best he could last night, providing a distraction for him when he asked for it, but this was no ordinary, stress-relieving fuck. Reid had killed someone. Young, innocent, bright-eyed Spencer Reid, had taken a gun and pulled the trigger and _killed _someone.

It could have easily broken him. Morgan shuddered as he remembered the gut-wrenched agony and guilt that radiated from Reid's tears last night as Morgan held him in his arms, and how he desperately tried to find the right words to comfort Reid as his friend, but instead found that Reid wanted a lover instead.

One hard fuck wasn't going to make it all go away though, Morgan knew that much. He settled for calling Reid as soon as he finished getting ready for the day's events, intent on making sure that he was alright. Resolved for the moment, Morgan walked over to his cabinet, pulling out worn jeans, a black tee, and fresh underwear. He laid them out on his desk, and after letting Clooney outside, he slipped into the bathroom for a hot shower.

Ten minutes later, refreshed, clean, and clothed, Morgan grabbed the soiled sheets and made to pull them off the bed to dump in the wash before he left. The white fabric rustled as they slid off the mattress, Morgan bunching them into a ball in his arms. As the last corner of the comforter was yanked off the bed, a separate rustling sound, paper, cut through the air, and a flutter of white appeared in Morgan's line of vision as it sank to the ground. Dark brows furrowed, Morgan placed the ball of blankets back on his bed and crouched down, snatching the paper from where it flew partially under the mattress. It only said two words, in Reid's handwriting.

_I'm sorry._

Morgan paused, and then a cold dread slowly began to spread throughout his body. His mind drew a rapid conclusion, repeating in a frantic mantra in his mind as he tripped over his feet making his way over to his nightstand to grab his phone and stumble over dialing. He pressed the phone up to his ear, his free hand rubbing the thin fuzz on his scalp as he paced. "Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up."

The click of someone answering the phone sounded and a croaked "Reid" froze Morgan in his tracks.

"Reid!" Morgan exclaimed, the tension in his shoulders and back reducing immensely at the sound of the doctor's voice on the other end.

"... Morgan?"

His tone threw Morgan off; Reid sounded scared, and if that in itself wasn't cause for concern, the fact that it was accompanied by a cold, sharp edge made a profound frown appear on Morgan's face.

"Yeah, Reid, it's me," Morgan said, his brows pinching together even tighter. "I-I, uh, I found your note and I guess that I kind of leapt to conclusions…" He sighed, turning toward the window, staring past the transparent glass into his yard outside, watching as Clooney pressed his snout to the ground by the wooden fence surrounding the green lawn. "I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. Are you okay?"

He heard Reid sigh, a sniff, and then he spoke in a rapid burst, "I'm fine, Morgan. Don't worry about me. Just uh… Just forget about that note, I don't even know why I left it. Guess it was just my sleep-addled brain thinking it was a good idea, and it doesn't help much that I haven't even gotten my coffee this morning yet. Just forget about it, I'm fine."

Morgan tried to cut in past the younger agent's rambling, "Reid-"

"Sorry, I gotta go."

"Reid!"

"I'll see you at work, Morgan." And then there was the click of the doctor hanging up, sounding final and resolute as it resonated in Morgan's ear.

He remained in a perplexed still stance, watching Clooney's bounding walk with unfocused eyes. After a long second, after the dial tone had already begun to echo from the other end, Morgan snapped out of it and ended the call, shoving the phone into his pocket. Clooney was now trotting up to where the back door was. Morgan huffed and walked out of his room to let Clooney back in.

"Come on in, boy," Morgan muttered as the large mound of fur scruffed past his pant leg, the dog's wheezing pants cutting through the crisp morning atmosphere. "A little cold out, huh?" Morgan walked over to his armchair, grabbing the light gray hoodie draped across the back. Slipping it on, he leaned over to where Clooney was laying on the rug by the couch and scratched behind the German Shepherd's ears.

"See you soon, alright boy?" Morgan said, standing upright again. Clooney's ear flicked up in acknowledgment before the large dog rested his head on his front legs with a deep sigh.

Morgan's fingers twitched toward his pocket, restless as he locked the front door and mindlessly twirled the keychain in his hand. He kept trying and stopping himself from pulling out his phone and redialing Reid's number. The whole conversation with the doctor, or lack thereof, did not sit right with Morgan, but still he climbed into his truck and turned the key in the ignition, shaking his head. Reid said he was fine, and Morgan wanted to believe him, but then what good would being a profiler in the BAU do if he couldn't even recognize and notice that his friend was in trouble?

He sighed a deep exhale, his breath clouding in front of him in the chill morning air before dissipating, and pulled out of his driveway.

xXx

For the rest of Saturday, Morgan had kept himself occupied with his current restoration project and had put the encounter with Reid at the back of his mind, almost forgetting about it altogether. It was only when he arrived at the bureau on Sunday morning after JJ called to inform him of a case and saw his colleagues crowding around Hotch and his wife Haley, newborn baby Jack in his father's arms, that he remembered Reid.

The younger agent certainly seemed more at ease now, so Morgan perked up and approached the group. Garcia was cooing over the sleeping baby, her smile brightening as she noticed Morgan's appearance. "Don't you just want one of these?" she asked, gesturing toward the newborn.

Morgan in to get a closer look at Jack Hotchner, his shoulder lightly pressing up against Reid's back. It was small, but Morgan immediately noticed the minuscule flinch that Reid gave at Morgan's close proximity and the stiffness in his shoulders that wasn't there before. Saving this information for later, Morgan shrugged at Garcia's question.

"Hmm, I'll stick to practicing," he said, leaning away from Reid. The women laughed, Hotch chuckled, but Reid almost sagged in relief once Morgan moved away. Morgan turned and walked toward the break room, thinking deeply and in need of some coffee.

When he walked into the conference room, a fresh, steamy cup of coffee in his hand, Gideon was standing in front of the whiteboard and examining the crime scene pictures of their case. Morgan quirked a brow as he eyed the family photo centered on the board, noticing the familiar faces within the picture.

"The Crawford family," Gideon said without taking his eyes away the photos. "Murdered three days ago."

"Saw it on the news," Morgan nodded, remembering catching the story while eating takeout after returning home that evening. He had thought nothing of it, writing it off as the murder/suicide that the reporters said it was. That being said, he was baffled at the appearance of this tragedy as one of their cases.

"They were found in the basement of their house," Gideon said.

"Bags were packed for a vacation they never took," JJ added.

Morgan walked around the table and glanced up at Reid while sitting down at his regular seat, placing his cup of coffee on the glass surface. The young doctor was intentionally avoiding his eyes, staring intently at the documents in his separate case file. If it wasn't for the slightly exaggerated frown on his face, Morgan may have actually believed that he was legitimately studying the reports. All it did for Reid was just make him _look _like he was trying to look like he was studying the reports, and not avoiding Morgan like he knew he was. If that made any sense at all. No one else took notice, however, and Morgan looked away to Gideon.

"Reporters said it was a murder/suicide," he said. "Father stabbed the mom, then shot himself."

"That's the conclusion that Maryland State Police came to," JJ nodded. "The gun was found next to the father, had gunpowder residue on his right hand."

"And now you must have some compelling reason to think that Chris Crawford didn't off his family?" Morgan said, interlacing his fingers together as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table surface.

"Yeah," JJ said, raising a new picture up from her file. "Another murdered family. The Millers- found a month ago." She handed the family photo of the Miller family to Reid, who took it and began to examine it, a genuine frown on his face now. JJ continued as she sat in the chair next to him, "The mother, Reese Miller, her two children, and her new husband. Again, they were found in the basement, and like the Crawfords, their suitcases were packed for a vacation."

"Both cases, the bodies were discovered five days after their vacations were supposed to have started," Gideon added, glancing up from his report.

"Yet, the coroner determined that they had been dead only 24 hours," JJ said.

"So for four days, both families remained in the house," Reid said, speaking up for the first time, but still keeping his gaze away from Morgan. The older man bit the inside of his cheek but gave no further indication of his observations.

"Location of the bodies, both cases, the basement," Gideon said, shifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. "That indicates a level of organization."

"With a quick but disorganized application of overpowering force," Morgan agreed, now completely sold on the fact that this was a legitimate case.

"If these aren't murder/suicides, someone's doing a damn good job of making them look like it," Reid said, flipping through the crime scene photos of both the Miller and Crawford homes. Morgan lifted a brow, weirdly surprised at the slip of the vulgar language from Reid's mouth. Granted, there were worse words to say, yet this was Reid, the man who had just recently told Morgan himself that cursing was for the simple-minded since there was a whole spectrum of vocabulary that could be used in its place. It was a tiny slip of the tongue, probably a fluke, yet it still was enough to convince Morgan, if he wasn't already, that something was off about Reid.

"Possibly this man," JJ replied, wrenching Morgan out of his thoughts. She held up a mugshot of a mean-looking black man in an flannel shirt, glaring at the camera with menacing dark eyes. "Eric Miller. Arlington P.D. issued a bolo for Miller after the bodies were discovered."

"Ex-wife Reese Miller had a restraining order against him for domestic violence," Gideon read off the documents, brows deepening behind his spectacles.

"When did she remarried?" Morgan asked.

"Uh, the week before they were killed," JJ answered.

Morgan sighed. "Violent husbands believe their wives and children are property. Reese Miller getting remarried possibly made him snap."

"Well, the Virginia cops finally located Eric Miller last night, responding to a drunken disturbance at a motel where Miller had been hiding out," JJ said. "When they found him, they discovered blood on his black leather jacket." She pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Belonged to his children."

"Was any of his DNA found at the Crawford house?" Morgan asked.

"No," Gideon answered.

"Did he know the Crawfords?" Reid followed up.

JJ shrugged. "If he does, he's not saying. In fact, he hasn't said a word since his arrest. Uh, the Arlington P.D. have asked us to interview him."

"Whew!" Reid exclaimed, raising his brows as he looked at the mugshot of Miller. "If anyone could apply overwhelming force, he's your man."

"I want you to find out, talk to him," Gideon said, locking his eyes onto Reid. The youngest agent's jaw went slack and he dropped the photo onto the table as he gaped at his mentor.

"Uh-eh-y-You want me to… talk to him?" Reid stammered, staring at Gideon and all but screaming disbelief and expectant hope that his superior was joking. Gideon held no mirth, instead nodding pointedly.

"Yeah," he replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, asking young Doctor Spencer Reid, no more intimidating than a soaked kitten, to interview a potential psychopathic murder slash family annihilator. Reid's mouth snapped shut with an audible click, and for a moment seemed to forget the unknown grudge he held against Morgan as he turned to face him, completely baffled and slightly fearful at what Gideon was ordering. Morgan shook his head in response, brows up, unable to think of an answer for the younger man. "You've done interviews with other agents running point. You can go solo."

Reid turned away from Morgan then, gulping almost audibly, scratching the side of his neck nervously.

Hotch and Elle had already gone ahead to speak to the medical coroner in charge of the Crawfords' case, and the rest of the team prepared, Morgan and Gideon to go to the Crawford home and Reid to interview Eric Miller. Gideon walked out to head to stop at his office before they left, leaving JJ, Reid, and Morgan behind. They replaced all of the documents, photos, and reports into their separate files, and Morgan glanced over at Reid, frowning as he noticed the small, jerky movements Reid was operating in. Leaning over, he placed a hand on Reid's shoulder. The youngest flinched at his touch, and kept his eyes lowered as he continued to stuff the paperwork into his satchel.

"Hey, you're going to be fine, man," Morgan reassured, pressing his thumb lightly into Reid's shoulder in what he hoped was a calming squeeze.

Reid paused, his eyes flickering from his satchel to the table, and Morgan tilted his head in an effort to get Reid to look at him. Reid stiffened and moved, rushing to get his things together, shoving the rest of his belongings into his bag and pulling away from Morgan's hand to throw the strap of his satchel over his neck. "Better get going, Gideon's waiting up," he muttered, hurrying out of the room.

JJ, who was indiscreetly listening to this exchange, watched as Reid walked out of the room, turning back to Morgan with curious eyes. "What was that all about?" she inquired. Morgan sighed and shrugged indifferently, grabbing his paperwork and his bag as he made his way out of the room.

"No idea," he said, slipping past her. She didn't look at all convinced, but didn't pursue him.

xXx

"Enter, minion!" Garcia called from inside her lair. Reid opened the door, slowly stepping inside. Garcia had already spun around to face her visitor and had a wide grin outlined by bright red lipstick on her face as she saw who it was. "Why, I didn't know doctors made house-calls nowadays. What brings you here, Dr. Reid?"

"Not that kind of doctor, Garcia," Reid replied, closing the door quietly behind him and walking further into the room, eyeing the many computers propped on the walls. Garcia rolled her eyes at his response, but there was no real malice or irritation, confirmed when she kept her carefree, pearly white smile. Reid couldn't help but hesitantly smile back. "I need you to look up the financial records of both the Crawfords and the Millers, try to find a type of connection between them."

"You know, we gotta stop meeting like this, Reid," Garcia said, already typing the necessary documentation into her database. "People will talk. But then again, talk is cheap." With that, she pulled the financial records of the Crawford family.

Reid squinted against the brightness of the computer screen, quickly scanning the information before him. "Not if you're talk to a therapist. The Millers made twelve weekly payments to the Applewood Family Medical Center. What about the Millers?"

The clicking of keys being struck was the only sound that filled the small pause of silence between them before Garcia replied, "No. Nothing here."

"Okay, what about pharmaceuticals?" Reid tried, leaning on his hand that was propped on Garcia's desk. As he spoke, Garcia was typing. "Nobody gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication."

"What are you implying, Reid?" Garcia said, her eyes glued onto her screen.

"That everyone is medicated," Reid replied, grimacing.

There was a still silence that followed his words, and Reid turned to see that Garcia had stopped typing and was now staring at him, mouth open and eyes twinkling in awe behind her black-rimmed glasses. "Did you just make a joke?" she asked, her voice a pitch higher than normal.

"No…" Reid drawled, then rushed into explanation. "I meant statistics! They-They show that-"

Garcia laughed, cutting him off. "Reid, next time, just say yes, okay?" she grinned, returning back to her search. "Now medication normally requires reimbursement from the HMO, and since she works for the government like you and I, we share the same health care provider."

Reid pinched his brows together as he noticed just what Garcia was doing. "Are you hacking into the government's HMO database?... Is that legal?"

"Of course not. We'll go to prison, and you'll be someone's bitch," Garcia deadpanned, keeping her face neutral and she continued her hacking process, her fingers nimbly flying across the keyboard.

"... Really?"

"Oh, right there. Good call, Reid," Garcia praised, smirking as she got into the HMO database and uncovered Reese Miller's medical records. "Mrs. Reese Miller- diazepam."

"Who prescribed the meds?" Reid asked, willing to ignore the impending risk of going to prison for sake of recovering this information.

"Dr. R. Howard at the Applewood Family Center," Garcia said. She moved to a different search window, typing in the documentation for Dr. Howard. "Let's find out what he looks like. Here we go." The computer chimed as the picture was pulled up, and Garcia's smirk fell. Reid sucked in his bottom lip between his teeth and stared.

The doctor was a redhead, and tiny like the profile indicated, yet… "Dr. Howard isn't a he," Garcia pointed out, as if Reid didn't see the woman in the picture from the database. He sighed and pulled out his phone, straightening himself up as he pressed redial and put the phone on speaker.

"Morgan."

"Hey, Morgan, it's Reid," Reid said. lowering himself back down, leaning in close to the computer monitor screen. "Listen, we may have found a link, and a possible suspect. Dr. Howard, working at the Applewood Family Medical Center, prescribed medication to Reese Miller, and the Crawfords also made several checks out to that same clinic for family counseling."

"He fit the profile?" Morgan's voice crackled over the line.

"She, actually," Reid corrected. "Dr. Rachel Howard, redhead and tiny like Frank described, she has connection to both families, and while I don't really believe that she's the unsub yet, it's a possibility." Quickly he rattled off the address Garcia pulled up to Morgan.

"Alright, we'll check it out," Morgan said. There was a small pause, and then Morgan sighed. "Listen, Reid-"

"I gotta go, Morgan," Reid cut in, unable to keep the sudden clipped, distant tone from his voice. He snapped his phone shut, abruptly cutting off Morgan's protest. He shoved the phone into his pocket again, digging into his temple with his thumb wearily.

"Okay, that was new," Garcia said from her seat. Reid stifled a groan, almost forgetting that she was there. Garcia had her arms clasped on her lap, back pressed against the back of her seat, and observing Reid closely. Reid fought to keep his emotions hidden; Garcia was no profiler, yet she still possessed the uncanny ability to be able to read and understand her friends and coworkers, and he could see that she was doing just that right now. "Alright, spill it, hon. What's going on? AH!" she exclaimed, raising a finger and startling Reid as he opened his mouth, the words dying in his throat. "And no denying it and telling me that everything is fine."

Reid swallowed. "Everything _is _fine, Garcia."

"Not buying it."

"I really don't see how this is any of your business anyway," Reid muttered lowly. But apparently not lowly enough, for Garcia's eyes narrowed dangerously. Heart thudding nervously in his rib cage, he lifted his head and sighed. "Honestly Garcia, everything is fine. It's just…" He cleared his throat roughly, his blinking rate increasing slightly. "It was a long weekend… Morgan tried to talk to me about it, but I just… I just needed some space, that's all." He wasn't necessarily lying to Garcia; what he was saying was verbatim of what occurred, but he was not going to unveil the entire truth to her, and he definitely was not going to tell Morgan either.

The ridge of Garcia's brows was lowered throughout Reid's explanation, but then Reid saw a gradual realization dawn in her face as she remembered just what had happened earlier that week. Her mouth dropped, and her eyes widened and sparkled in worry. "Dowd," she whispered. "Oh honey, I-"

"It's fine. If it's all the same, I'd rather… I'd rather just forget about it. Listen, thanks for all the help, Garcia. I gotta go," he said, turning and abruptly striding out of the room. The door of Garcia's lair closed shut behind him, cutting of Garcia's confused cry to call him back.

xXx

"Damnit," Morgan growled, frustration heating up in his chest as he heard the dial tone sound in his ear, angrily ending the call and slipping his phone back into his pocket. He had hoped that whatever was bothering Reid would have made itself apparent by now; the boy was utterly hopeless at lying within personal relationships, no matter how well he was at it during the job. It was possible, if not guaranteed, that Dowd was still fresh on Reid's mind, but it had to be more than that. Morgan knew that it had to have originated from that night, when Reid came to him, wild, desperate, almost broken… Morgan shivered.

Was it shame or embarrassment of what they did? But then why? They had used each other before, all for the desire or need for a distraction or to forget the cruelty and demons that they faced every single day on the job. Reid had no problem with it before, so that couldn't be it. Then there was that note. Reid was apologizing to him, for reasons unknown to Morgan, much to the older man's irritation, and for what? To place himself back behind walls that Morgan had hoped were long broken down between them, and refuse to allow Morgan to help. Morgan hated not being able to do anything if he knew something was wrong, and the fact that Reid was preventing him from doing so was really getting under his skin, embers of annoyance now beginning to flare into a burning fury in his chest.

"Everything alright?"

Gideon was regarding him closely, dark eyes piercing as they observed him, and Morgan had to look away. Gideon was much too good at what he did, and Morgan was in no mood to get profiled at the moment. "Yeah, yeah," he answered easily. "Call just dropped."

There was a pause. When Morgan looked back up Gideon was nodding, lower lip jutted out a little, and Morgan bit his lip to keep an annoyed scowl off his face when he noticed that Gideon still had that unconvinced look in his eye, like he had when he last spoke to Morgan in the parking lot of the hospital last week.

"Did you get anything?" Gideon asked.

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck. "Reid said that a Dr. Rachel Howard is linked to both the Millers and the Crawfords. She works at the Applewood Family Center. Reid gave me the address."

"Then we better get moving."

xXx

Eight families.

Eight families, a mother, a father, children, that were killed before they could catch Karl Arnold. The thought alone was enough to make Reid sick, but when Hotch arrived in the conference room after Karl confessed during their interrogation, a grim look on his already serious face and a box in his hands, and when he placed that box in the center of the table where they were all seated and Gideon dumped out all of those rings, and the gold bands shined and gleamed in the light from the sun outside, mocking them, taunting them…

Reid retched once more, his knuckles whitening from the force of his fingers grasping the edge of the toilet bowl. He panted heavily, his breaths echoing within the confines of the bowl, and he leaned back, weakly reaching up and flushing the toilet. He sniffed and wiped his mouth, raising himself on unsteady feet and making his way over to his bathroom sink. Rinsing out the taste of bile from his mouth, he splashed some cold water on his face and sniffed, eyes closed as he pressed his face into his washcloth.

There was a knock at the door.

Swallowing, he wiped the excess water off his now pink face and tossed the washcloth into the sink, walking over to his front door. As he neared, the rapping of knuckles cut through the momentary quiet. Two knocks, confident, barely a split second of silence in between. Reid faltered, but then he exhaled sharply and continued on. _I guess it's time to face the music_, he thought bitterly. Still, his heart stuttered as he turned the doorknob and pulled the door open to reveal Morgan, fist raised to knock again, eyes widening in surprise. Reid licked his lips anxiously, and Morgan lowered his arm.

"Huh. Thought it would have taken a hell of a lot more knocking and me threatening to kick your door down for you to let me in, the way you've been acting," Morgan said, tongue dragging over the back of his bottom teeth. Reid winced, noting the hard edge outlining Morgan's words.

"Hey, Morgan," he greeted weakly, unconsciously resting a hand on his stomach, the nausea fluttering in his stomach. At this, Morgan seemed to take notice of Reid's flushed face and queasy expression, for his stoic anger fell into a look of concern.

"You alright, kid?" he asked, eyebrows creased. Reid nodded hastily.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, removing his hand from his abdomen and placing it on the doorframe, lowering his eyes and focusing instead on Morgan's shoes. There was light traces of dirt around the edges of the black gym shoes. "Just, uh, I'm fine."

"Reid." The younger man's eyes snapped up and met Morgan's. He was staring back at Reid calmly and almost indifferently, but there was such a plea hidden in his dark brown eyes that it almost took Reid's breath away. "Please. Talk to me, kid."

Reid sighed shakily, gulping down the receding aching, and then slowly stepped back and to the side, wordlessly inviting Morgan in. Once both inside, Reid closed the door and turned to lean his back against it, wrapping his arms around his torso as if that would control the nausea and twisting ball of nerves bouncing around in his stomach.

"Reid?"

"It was, uh…" Reid began softly, his lips puckering slightly as he swallowed. "It was just a lot to take in, you know? Seeing the rings. All those families..."

Morgan's face melted in realization and sadness. His footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent room as he approached Reid. "It's a horrible thing," he began, stopping in front of the doctor. "If things went my way, I'd make sure that Karl Arnold suffered as much as I saw fit for what he did. Those families… They were good people, and they didn't deserve that fate. No one does, regardless of his sick reasoning. But Reid, there was nothing we could have done. You know that."

"I know," Reid said. "Doesn't make me feel any better, but I know."

"He's locked away for life, he isn't gonna hurt anyone anymore," Morgan said. "That's what we do. Because even though there was nothing we could have done for those families before, we made damn sure he isn't going to hurt anyone else ever again. That's all we can do, Reid."

"Yeah," Reid nodded. "Yeah."

"You'll be alright," Morgan said, clapping a hand on Reid's shoulder and squeezing once, a gentle smile playing at his lips. Then he turned serious, the smile thinning until he was staring at Reid pointedly, and Reid internally groaned as he realized what was coming. He watched carefully as Morgan seemed to be contemplating on his words, his insides feeling like they were turning in on themselves as he was regarded by trained eyes. Reid held his gaze. After a moment, Reid saw resignation flow into those penetrating orbs, and Morgan sighed, dropping his hand off of Reid's shoulder.

"Kid, if you're going to hold in whatever is bothering you and keep a few secrets, that's fine, there's nothing stopping you," Morgan began. "But don't ever freak me out like you did this weekend, and I don't need to keep reminding you that you _can _talk to me, Reid, about _anything_."

He didn't say any more after that. Reid was caught off guard, thoughts racing wildly as he tried to find something to say. This wasn't how he thought Morgan's confrontation was going to go at all; he expected a demand for an explanation, some anger, some frustration, maybe even some pleading if Morgan had cared as much as he seemed to play out. But this defeated type of acceptance as Morgan just seemed to let it go entirely, Reid wasn't expecting that. And he didn't know what to say. So he didn't say anything, nodding slowly in confirmation.

"Alright," Morgan whispered. He backed away from Reid, and Reid moved away from the door as the older man indicated his desire to leave. A hand on the doorknob, Morgan inclined his head to look at his friend. "I hope we're okay, Reid. And, um, if I did anything-"

"You didn't do anything," Reid hurried to say, attempting to quell the agent's self-blame. "And we-we are okay. And for what it's worth, I am sorry for avoiding you. I really did just need some space… but it's better now."

Morgan nodded stiffly, continuously, as his eyes snapped down to the floor. He grinned then, an exhale of laughter puffing past his lips. "You're an odd one, kid," Morgan said. Reid smiled awkwardly, shrugging. "See you at work tomorrow, Reid."

"Yeah… See you tomorrow, Morgan."

And then Morgan was gone.


	8. AUTHOR'S NOTE and Preview!

A/N: Hey everyone! So I haven't really been on FF as of late; I've been indulging myself with a former hobby, which is creating fanvideos on YT. I am so sorry I haven't updated this in a while!

However, I have some news. Good news and bad news. I'll give you all the bad news first. Bad news is, I am not too happy with the way _**Don't Think, Just Feel **_is coming along. Reading over it, I noticed quite a few details and errors that were crucial to the overall plotline either going missing or being written in a way that won't fit the story. So Chapter 7 on _this _story is where it will end.

HOWEVER, there is good news! Good news is, I am **rewriting **this story.

Furthermore, it will remain the same in terms of the story you've all come to know and love. There may be a few (though not many) key points that will be different, but otherwise, besides adding more detail and depth into the story, the plot will remain the same.

The rewritten, updated story is called _**Elephant's Memory (Don't Think, Just Feel).**_ The first chapter is already up, so please check it out! I finished Chapter 2 and am editing it as of right now. This story will be my main priority now, so expect more updates!

To show you a little sneak peak of _**Elephant's Memory (Don't Think, Just Feel)**_**,** below is a preview of the first chapter! Thank you all so much for sticking with this story, and I hope you all love the updated version just as much, if not more! I hope you all enjoy!

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Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds.

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It was 6:52 in the morning, and Reid was tired.

A pair of hazel eyes slid shut almost lazily as a wave of heat traveled past his upper lip, flooding his nostrils with the scent of peppermint. He cautiously took in a sip of the still-scalding drink, sighing as he swallowed. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, fingers coiled around the handle of the black mug. His eyes were still closed, and he struggled to open them, managing to raise his heavy lids halfway before blinking to a halt.

He needed to wake up. He knew that much. It would do him no good to arrive to work in the state he was in. He took another sip of his peppermint tea, scowling in pain as the beverage burned his tongue. He swallowed roughly, raising a hand to his face and digging the heel of his palm into his worn eyes. Wake up.

The sudden chime of his phone going off in his pocket startled him, the fright going to his heart as it throbbed a bit more prominently in his chest. Quickly getting over his shock, Reid pulled out his ringing mobile out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. He pursed his lips in recognition and answered the call, raising the phone to his ear.

"Reid."

"Hey, kid," Morgan's voice sounded over the line. "I just got off the phone with Hotch. JJ caught a case happening in Seattle. The info should be getting faxed over to you right about now."

As Morgan spoke, Reid glanced over at his fax machine in his living room, which slowly whirred to life and began printing out the case report. Placing the mug on the counter, he trudged toward the fax machine, arriving just as it concluded. He pulled the first document from the tray and began to skim over the details. "Yeah, I got it."

"He wants you to take that over to Gideon."

Reid frowned at Morgan's statement, eyes flicking away from the report. "Gideon? For a consult?"

"No, the director wants him to come in, get out on the field with us. God knows why, but she does."

Reid's frown deepened; there was a certain, unpleasant edge to Morgan's voice now. It was clear to him that Morgan was not at all happy with the circumstances surrounding the case, especially now that it included the personal involvement of Jason Gideon, and it wasn't difficult to understand why. Gideon was not without criticism, especially after what happened in Boston. So it was understandable why Morgan was not so quick as to trust the former Unit Chief so easily. But Reid was not so quick as to not.

"He could be an asset to this case," Reid answered neutrally, though internally he felt defensive toward his mentor. "It's been six months. Maybe he's ready."

Morgan paused before replying. "Hm. Maybe. We'll see. Well, I'll see you both soon."

Before Reid could answer, the click of Morgan hanging up echoed in his ear. Reid pressed the 'end call' button on his device, slipping it back into his pocket. Grabbing the rest of the papers from the tray, he headed back into the kitchen. He rubbed his chest absentmindedly, an unknown weight forming from within. He eyed the large thermos on his drying rack.

It was 6:55 in the morning, and Reid was tired.


End file.
